


spirited away

by msbrokenbrightside



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Big Bang Challenge, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Gore, Grooming, Inspired by a Movie, M/M, Sam/Lucifer Big Bang Challenge, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-20 00:20:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2408264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msbrokenbrightside/pseuds/msbrokenbrightside
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spirited Away AU. Sam and Dean are hunting the yellow-eyed demon when they come upon a resort for the gods run jointly by Heaven and Hell. Sam and Dean as Chihiro, Lucifer as No-Face, Castiel as Haku. (warnings: body horror, violence, gore, language) Part of the Sam/Lucifer Big Bang.</p>
            </blockquote>





	spirited away

**Author's Note:**

> SLBB14
> 
>  **Author:** msbrokenbrightside  
>  **Artist:** octopifer  
>  **Beta:** indigowallbreaker
> 
>  **Rating:** Mature (body horror, violence, gore, language)  
>  **Summary:** Spirited Away AU. Sam and Dean are hunting the yellow-eyed demon when they come upon a resort for the gods run jointly by Heaven and Hell. Sam and Dean as Chihiro, Lucifer as No-Face, Castiel as Haku.  
>  **Author’s Notes:** Thank you to my wonderful beta, Sarah, and my equally wonderful artist, Tania! They are both amazing! I’ve wanted to write this since I first started to watch Supernatural so it’s really great to have it finally done! This story keeps some of the earlier season events but there are a variety of changes here and there. (For example Meg’s spn role in s1-3 is not present but Azazel’s spn s1-s2 role is, Azazel lives past his death in the show, Lilith’s spn role is not included, etc.). Sam/Lucifer is the only overt ship but there is some Dean/Cas if you want to read into it! I hope you all enjoy!  
>  **Recommended Listening:** Listen to the damn movie soundtrack ohmygod it’s so great.  
> [Here is the tumblr post containing the art done by the wonderful Tania.](http://msbrokenbrightside.tumblr.com/post/99289080853/s-p-i-r-i-t-e-d-a-w-a-y-a-samlucifer-big)

{:}

Even with all of the clouds littering the sky it’s still a bright day, Sam notes as the Impala makes its way along a back road. They’re driving alongside a hill and when Sam tilts his head up from its resting place on the window frame he can see the backs of suburban houses at the top. On his right he hears Dean curse quietly, fiddling with the volume of the stereo. Sam shifts back into a sitting position, his shirt barely sliding across his back because of the sweat.  It’s been a hot summer and without working air conditioning Dean turns to his classic rock to distract him from the heat.

When Sam looks out in front of them he sees the road turn from paved to dirt up ahead; trees coming in to surround the road and shade it from the sun.

“Bobby said the omens were concentrated in the center woods off the main road. And that we could drive straight to the spot using the dirt road,” Dean says, looking down briefly at the map, “Pretty sure that’s it.”

Sam nods, “Looks like it.”

“Good,” Dean comments gruffly, “Let’s gut the son of a bitch and get to a place with A/C.”

“Dean, it may not be that simple,” Sam tells him, worrying his lip.

 “We have the Colt, we’ve got a good hunch that Azazel is in this forest,” Dean says while gesturing to the trees encompassing them, “I’m not saying it’s gonna be easy, Sam, but I’m telling you this is it. This is the last time we’re going to see that smug son of a bitch breathing.”

Sam thinks about saying that they shouldn’t get their hopes up. That this could be a random demon or even just a false lead. But looking at the determination on Dean’s face, the set of his jaw and his narrowed eyes, Sam decides against it. This has been a long time coming for both of them. The yellow-eyed demon burned their mother alive when Sam was just a baby and three years ago it killed their father.

A year ago one of the yellow eyed demon’s plans had gotten Sam killed. And not a day later Dean had sold his soul to bring Sam back. The crossroad demon only gave Dean a few months before the hellhounds would be after him.

In that small amount of time the yellow eyed demon disappeared off the radar completely. They looked for him everywhere and never found a trace of sulfur. Even after Dean was gone Sam continued to look, driven by grief and thoughts of vengeance, and found nothing. 

 And then, months later, Dean came back from hell.

They still don’t know how it happened; Dean had no memory of anyone or anything busting him out of his chains. A blank spot in between the last torture session with Alistair and waking up in his body, buried in his coffin. To add to the mystery there wasn’t a scratch on him. As if he hadn’t been ripped apart by hellhounds or hadn’t been hunting for all of his life. After proving that he wasn’t a shape shifter or a ghoul they didn’t know what to think.

As they drive past the trees Sam can’t stop his own anger from boiling up inside of him. The demon ruined not only their lives but the lives of all the other children he poisoned with his blood.  Sam can’t help but remember their faces in that ghost town. The screaming and the blood. Sam clenches his fist tight lost in thought until Dean speaks.

“God damn it,” Dean curses, looking in front of them as the car eases into a measured pace. .

Up ahead is a cement roadblock in the middle of the road. On either side of the road the trees are thick, so thick that only small glimmers of sunlight filter through the foliage. From the car Sam can see that the path in front of it hasn’t been travelled on for a while but it’s still clear enough to follow.

“Looks like we’ll have to walk,” Sam says, already undoing his seatbelt.

Dean groans and turns the key to turn off the Impala’s engine, her purring quieting. The buzz of insects inside of the forest fill the air in her place. Dean follows Sam’s lead and undoes his seatbelt before sitting up to put the keys away in his back pocket, grumbling “Yeah, just what I wanted to do in this heat.”

Sam smiles softly at his brother’s complaints, reaching behind himself to grab his backpack, before stepping out of the car.

He stretches his limbs—they had been in the car for a few hours—and then walks to the trunk where Dean is already shuffling through their supplies. Sam watches as Dean grabs a sawed-off, checking to make sure there is no ammo in it, before he places it inside. Then another sawed-off is pulled out to which Dean hands it to Sam. Dean counts up the ammo while Sam grabs his knife and places it into his bag. Eventually the reach the last piece of supplies that they will need: the Colt. Neither of them reaches for it at first and Sam takes a glance at Dean to see that his brother is staring at it, zoning out. For a moment Sam think that Dean may be having the start of another episode, remembering his time in hell.

“You okay, Dean?”

Dean doesn’t speak but he does reach for the colt and holds it in his hand. Eventually he pulls back his shoulder as he reaches for the black leather pouch the keep the Colt’s bullets inside of.

“Yeah,” he says gruffly before placing both items in his bag.

Sam isn’t too sure that Dean is alright but he leans away from the trunk so Dean can shut it anyway. They sling their bags over their shoulders and while Dean locks the trunk Sam steps around the Impala and towards the path. When Dean’s satisfied that his baby is locked up and safe from harm he hauls his pack onto his shoulder and nods in the path’s direction, “Well let’s get going.”

The trek isn’t full of many obstacles walking, though Sam suspects it would have been much bumpier in the car. And he’s glad there was a block stopping them or else Dean would have been cursing about the damage done. It’s still hot outside though. Even under the shade it’s hotter than it was in the car. Sam glances up to see if he can make out anything in the sky though the canopy. Other than a few chaste glimpses of the sun and clouds Sam doesn’t see much. Dean’s gruff voice interrupts his attempts, dropping his head to see his brother staring forward, “There’s a building ahead.”

Truthfully Sam expected a small shack, maybe a cabin, but certainly not a building large enough that he can’t see all of it from their point on the trail. When they come closer to it Sam still can’t see all of it but he can make out a few more features: the clock tower in the center of the building, three sets of glass doors right beside each other, and bicycle racks on both ends of said doors. Reaching the building Sam can that the faint yellow paint is chipping away to reveal boring stone grey. Sam also sees that the doors are not simply glass but that they also have ornate metalworking. There are no specific images depicted but the filigree is intricate and would have taken a human artist significant time. But Sam has the feeling that it wasn’t done by a human.

“What do you think it is?” he asks Dean, glancing around the surroundings. Sam suppresses the urge to shiver when a cold feeling passes over him.

“I don’t know,” Dean comments, eyeing a rusted bicycle chained to the rack, “but whatever it is it’s definitely not meant for humans. Not with it being here in the middle of the woods and the roadblock back there.” He frowns before kneeling down on the ground and slipping his bag off his shoulders. “Probably should take out the guns now before we get jumped.”

Dean pulls out his EMF detector before also pulling out the Colt and the black pouch. He fills the ammunition chamber before placing the black pouch into his jacket pocket. Sam does the same with his sawed off and pulls back his shoulders, facing one of the doors. When they open it a breeze flows past them and the same chilling feeling Sam had before come back. Definitely not meant for humans.

“Ready?” he asks, voice unwavering despite the unease settling inside of his gut.

Dean chuckles restlessly and shakes his head, “About as ready as I’ll be.”

Inside the building it’s much darker than the partially sunlit forest behind them. It takes their eyes a moment to adjust before they can scan the room. It’s a fairly large room with high ceilings. There is only one other set of doors in the room, a large wooden one. Sam expects that there will be intricate carvings in its dark wood to match the metal ones outside. Sam spots a few benches scattered throughout the middle of the room and a long desk to their right. Behind the desk Sam can see a large bulletin board with symbols alongside numbers. Even without understanding what the symbols mean at first glance Sam knows what kind of building they are in.

“It’s a transportation hub,” he remarks to Dean while trying to see if he can read any of the symbols. Heading up to the desk to get a closer look or maybe find something he can interpret.

Nodding, Dean lowers the colt and steps farther into the room, “Looks about as abandoned in here as it does outside. EMF isn’t even going off.” He pushes his boot into one of the cobwebs near a bench leg and sighs. When Sam reaches the desk he doesn’t find anything but dust and cobwebs, “Yeah, looks like you’re right.”

“Let’s find out where that leads then,” Dean says, motioning to the wooden door.

Coming out from behind the desk Sam meets Dean in front of the door. Like Sam expected there are several carvings set into the wood. While these engravings seem to depict more than just intricate patterns Sam still can’t make out anything that he recognizes. Sam supposes they could be faces but they’re the faces of non-human creatures. Too many eyes.

When Dean pushes the door open there’s darkness again and a chill races down Sam’s spine once more. Far off into the darkness though Sam can see light ahead. He rolls back his shoulders to ease some of the tension out and in the corner of his eye he sees Dean do the same before taking a step into the hallway. With each of the steps they take the cold and nervous feeling returns no matter how much Sam tries to shake it.

“I take back what I said about the heat,” Dean says, feeling the same chill as Sam.

Sam nods but stays silent as they make their way farther.

Upon reaching the light Sam has to shield his eyes as he takes the last few steps out of the dark corridor. He can tall though, even unable to see, that they’re in a much more open space now. When he opens his eyes he’s stunned at what he sees. He hears Dean whistle beside him.

It’s a train station but it’s immensely large and beautiful. There are five sets of tracks for the station and the floors are white marble with gold tiles right before the gap. The ceiling is high and the beams supporting it are a pale gray metal that in the light seems an off shade of light blue. But what’s most eye catching is the glass ceiling and walls in between the metal frameworks. Each window is stained glass and depicts gorgeous images of space. Planets, stars, nebulas, are among some of them.  

“Wow,” Sam says after regaining some sense of speech. The details and colors of the pieces were unreal.

Dean nods, “I’ll say.”

Looking around the open space Dean notes that they’re alone again; the station is as empty as the first room. Slowly his awe turns sour as the thought that they may not find the yellow eyed demon crosses his mind. Frowning he looks ahead to see another entrance, this one a simple break in the frames. Dean can see the sky out of the opening.  To his right are stairs leading up to walkways above the railways. Dean nudges Sam’s shoulder and points to them.

“Let’s keep moving.”

Hesitantly, still wanting to marvel at the craftsmanship, Sam follows Dean up the stairs and along the walkways. When they reach the entry way Sam smiles again.

“This place is incredible.”

Dean huffs.

“Still gives me the creeps.”

Before them is a large field of wild flowers and tall grass. While the station was an incredible feat of innovation the miles of nature are equally as beautiful. A breeze blows through the field and Sam marvels at the way it moves the flowers. Up ahead he can see a few buildings but a heavy fog seems to be covering the rest of the town. Sam turns to Dean, “I think that’s our best bet to finding him.”

Dean nods, taking the few stone steps into the grassy field while sighing, “Guess so.”

The journey to the town is just as hot as before but the breeze makes it more bearable. Still, Sam’s glad they decided to forsake layers today. When the reach the beginning of the town there are steps similar to the ones at the train station however here there is a statue at the top, a beast with the face of a lioness, a hawk, and a fish.

Sam climbs the steps two at a time to take a closer look at the statue. It’s made of stone, like the steps, but Sam doesn’t know how old it is. There are no cracks from age and no moss or other plant growing on its surface. Before Sam takes another step closer he sees Dean and notices the worried expression he has on. Sam takes his attention off of the statue and turns it to his brother instead. Dean is looking at the statue still when he speaks.

“I knew when we went through the tunnel…” Dean stops—unsure for a moment—and looks away from the statue, shaking his head, “I just hope we didn’t bite more than we can chew.”

Sam doesn’t know how to respond at first. He knows what Dean’s talking about, the chills he felt walking through the corridor and the building weren’t just because it was cold. But they’re here now and they’re mission is still on.

“We’ve got the colt at least,” Sam says to try and comfort Dean. He stands up straight and keeps Dean’s gaze until Dean nods, turning towards the town and starting to walk towards it.

“At least there’s that.”

The buildings and the streets are as empty as the station. Most of them are shops and restaurants, judging by their signs and names. What’s interesting though is how many shops there are for rare items and ingredients.

“It’s like a hunter’s paradise,” Dean comments, keeping an eye out for any movement, “Except for the damn fog.”

The town is mostly built around the main street it seems. There are alleyways in between some buildings but they don’t seem to lead to anywhere but the backs of the shops. There are a few statues and fountains scattered around, some trees and gardens kept in good condition but still no sign of their owners. The road leads up a hill and as the go farther in Sam starts to see something that was masked by the fog. It’s large and tall, very out of place considering the small buildings that the town is made up of. When they reach the top of the hill there are two statues to the right and left of a wide bridge that connects the town to the large structure.

Sam takes a quick glance towards Dean to find his brother staring at the building, eyes narrowed.  

They walk across the bridge to get a better look at the building, stopping halfway.

The structure is massive, pushing up through the clouds and probably onwards. There are a few entry way doors in the front while an overhang covers them and part of the road. The landscaping is as kept up as the rest of the town. There’s also no dust or stains on the rug that leads from the doors to the street. Despite being massive it seems deserted. There’s no light on behind any of the windows and it’s silent. Just like the rest of the town. However there is some sign of life by way of the illuminated letters along the overhang’s side. But like the writing in the train station, Sam can’t decipher what it says.

The bridge itself is also impressive. More talented metal work stretched across the railings only this time it’s done in a black iron. The iron work swirls around and looks almost like hundreds of vines twisting and turning around one another. When Sam steps close enough to the bridge to lean over its railing he can’t help but whistle. Along the edges of the cliff-side the building sits on are other smaller structures that go all the way down to the ground. He catches sight of railroad tracks under the bridge.

Sam steps back away from the railing and glances back at his brother.

“I think,” Sam pauses, staring up at the building, “This was a hotel. Or it was one once.”

Dean steps up next to him and squints, “I can’t even see the top of it, Sam.”

Sam shrugs, “We’re not exactly in Kansas anymore, Dean. Like you said, we knew when we walked through that tunnel that we were leaving ‘normal’ behind.”

Dean turns to look at Sam and Sam meets his eyes before his phone starts to go off. He reaches into his jacket pocket, pulls it out, and answers, “Bobby?”

Turning back to the building Dean looks up to try and see the top of it again. All he can see is the clouds passing through it again.

“Bobby, hold on a sec,” Sam shifts, placing his hand over his ear, “you’re going in and out.”

Sam steps off the bridge and starts to walk back towards the shops, searching for better service. Dean keeps his eye trained onto Sam’s back, shouting out to him when Sam continues to walk away, “Don’t get lost, alright Sammy?”

Sam waves a hand in his direction and Dean sighs.

The sound of a train whistle has Dean turning his head back the other way. He walks over to the railing of the bridge to lean over and see the train go by on the tracks. From all the way up here it looks like a line of fast moving ants. A breeze passes through and Dean hears something, he doesn’t know what though, it sounded maybe like wings. When he turns to the hotel Dean sees a man in a trench coat standing there on the other side of the bridge.

“What are you doing here?” he growls, stalking up to Dean quickly, “You shouldn’t be here.”

{:}

No matter where Sam walks to he can’t seem to get a clear signal. Bobby’s voice breaks through the static every now and then as Sam continues making his way down the hill.

“There’s a lot of… are you sure you boys are… Ash’s computer is picking up..”

Sam grumbles, “Bobby you’re still breaking up, hold on a sec.”

 “We think you two should… better safe than sorr-”

The phone goes dead there and even as Sam continues to move he gets to signal. Sam looks down at his phone and shakes his head, hair falling in front of his face, “Damn it.” He pockets the phone away and is about to make his way back up the hill when he notices that he can see much clearer now. Turning around in a circle he sees that the fog has lifted. Looking up to the sky Sam can see that the sun is already setting, the sky a blend of orange, red, and purple. When Sam looks away from the sky though it takes every part of his hunter’s training not to jump at the clack of window shutters being opened. Sam turns to see a person opening up one of the shops. At first Sam relief flows over him for a brief moment but then something odd happens to the figure.

As Sam continued to look at the person their image seemed to shift, similar to the way a ghost will flicker, but this time the image didn’t disappear but was replaced by a grotesque face and body. Something out of Hieronymus Bosch’s paintings. Sam takes a step back, the being hasn’t noticed him yet, and takes a glance down the hill. There’s more than one of the creatures. In fact the town that was a few minutes ago empty is now full of them. Quickly Sam ducks down one of the alleyways to keep out of sight.

Sam waits to see if any of them follow him, gripping his shot gun. Luckily none of them do and Sam makes his way back to the hotel by way of the back alley as fast and as quietly as he can. He hopes, almost prays, that Dean hasn’t found one of those creatures. Sam may never have gazed upon the true face of a demon but he has no doubt about what those creatures were.

He comes at the end of the alley and slowly follows closely to the wall of the shop. Just before he reaches the end of the wall he sees the bridge and the building.

Dean’s nowhere to be seen.

Cursing Sam takes a quick look up at the building only to find that he still can’t see the top of it. Sam gaps at the structure again until he hears more noises of the shops opening and some talking amongst the demons. Taking one last glance around for Dean he follows down the alley, hoping that Dean has caught on and is making his way back down the hill.

The noises of the town waking up grow louder and louder as Sam makes his way down. He keeps moving forward, only growing more and more anxious as he continues. Sam can see the end of the alleyway when three demons step out in front of the exit and stop Sam dead in his tracks. At first they don’t notice him and Sam starts to walk back, hoping to reach one of the other small alleys he passed. But then one turns its head, switching back between normal and horrifying. The demon alerts the others and they start to stalk after Sam. Sam turns around and bolts to one of the alleyways, glancing back to see where they are, hearing their footsteps following his. When he turns back to look in front of him he sees that he’s made the wrong choice and finds himself at a dead end.

It’s too late to try running back as the demons have entered this backstreet. Sam forces himself to keep his eyes on them, however monstrous their true faces may be.  One of them orders him to stay put and Sam bites his lip, lifting up the shot gun and aiming for the one that spoke. He fires into its chest and it flies back a few feet. The others pause, hunching over defensively as they glance at their companion. While they’re distracted Sam loads another round into the shotgun to replace the one he fired, swallowing roughly when the demon stands up again.

“You’re gonna regret that, kid,” the demon says, and when it’s face shifts to its true one, Sam can see maggots and flies fall and fly out of its mouth. He resists the urge to gag and lifts up the shotgun. But this time the demon is quicker and it lifts its hand, Sam feels the familiar tug and then he’s slammed into the wall beside him. It knocks the breath out of him but he still tries to aim again. This time when he’s pushed into the other wall he braces the impact with his arm and it’s enough to steady himself. It’s too late though because when he raises that gun again one of the demons grabs the barrel and moves it out of aim. Even pulling Sam closer to them so that it can grab his shoulder.

Sam is about to move to physical fighting when the demons gasp and fear fills all of their faces. They’re looking at something behind Sam. The face of the demon holding Sam has translucent skin and Sam watches, both fascinated and horrified, as he watches the blood rushes down its veins. Sam is about to turn around to find out what could possibly scare them when he feels a cold hand fall onto his shoulder.

He didn’t feel it at first but now that the being has touched him Sam can feel the pressure that fills the alleyway. The light seems to be sucked out of the alleyway itself and Sam guesses it’s not just because the sun has almost left the sky. The temperature has dropped significantly as well, when Sam breaths he can see it. Whatever is behind him its power is radiating off of it and filling the space. Soon the demon lets god of Sam and his shotgun. Before they make their way back down the alley Sam thinks he sees them bow slightly. When they’re no longer in sight Sam can feel the pressure lift but he doesn’t relax. Knowing he could regret his next move entirely Sam takes a deep breath before dipping out from under the being’s hand and turns quickly to aim the gun at it.

What he expected Sam didn’t know but he’s shocked to find that the being isn’t as frightening as he imagined. It’s clothed all in black robes that are slightly tattered and covering its entire face is a white mask. The mask has some filigree over it but nothing too elaborate, it has six ovals for eyes—the ovals lie on their sides, one on top of the other—and a emotionless expression. Behind the mask Sam can make out tuffs of blonde hair from underneath the hood. The creature is shorter then Sam himself but only by an inch or two. Despite its fairly non-threatening appearance Sam doesn’t let his guard down. This seems to make the being chuckle, a low rumble that Sam narrows his eyes at.

“That may slow down demons but it won’t do anything to me, Sam,” the being says softly, and Sam wills himself not to shudder when he says his name. His chest tightens still, conflicted by the reverence in the being’s voice.

He waits for Sam to say something back but when the hunter says nothing the being sighs.

“Your brother has made it past the demons,” he tells Sam, pointing to the alley behind Sam, “He’s further down the road. I can help you get to him.”

Sam raises the gun higher, aiming at the mask—to which the being laughs again—and frowns.

“And why should I trust you?” he asks the creature, attempting to devise a plan to get out of there.

It chuckles again before moving closer to Sam. Sam takes a step back, sucking in a breath on instinct. The being seems amused by the reaction before it slowly steps around Sam. He walks towards the end of the alley, not turning around as it speaks again, “Because you won’t make it out of here without my help.”

Sam watches its back and debates following him. Sam takes a look up at the sky to see that night has already fallen and knows that the being is right. He rolls back his shoulders and grinds his teeth before jogging quickly to catch up to the being. It turns its head but continues walking when Sam growls out that it stays in front.

As they make their way down the alley Sam catches himself glancing at the paths leading to the main road. Now that it’s dark out the only source of light comes from the shops and street lights. Sam glances at the being’s back and wonders what it possibly could be. It’s not a demon; Sam hasn’t seen its face change at all. There’s nothing strange about its body either Sam gathers. It could be a god, Sam muses before the being stops walking suddenly and Sam almost runs into him. Sam looks ahead of it to see why it stopped and sees his brother hiding out behind one of the statues, in the shadows of the buildings. They’ve already reached the bottom of the hill. Sam takes a step forward, past the being, and sees that Dean is looking around anxiously. Sam turns to give his thanks to the creature only to find it’s disappeared. He shakes his head, blinking, and briefly looks around for it before giving up. Quickly Sam makes his way out of the light and into the shadows, reaching Dean.

“Are you okay?” Sam whispers to him, crouching down with Dean.

Dean doesn’t jump but Sam notices that there’s a bit of fear in his brother’s eyes. Probably from the demons, Sam reckons. Dean grumbles, “I’m fine, I told you not to wander off to far Sammy. I didn’t know what to do.”

“I’m sorry, Dean, I didn’t exactly expect the whole town to fill up with demons once the sun went down,” Sam tells Dean, looking up towards the road. The demons are still filtering in and out of the shops and restaurants.

Dean sighs and starts to stand up, “Let’s go, we need to get the hell out of here.”

Nodding, Sam follows Dean down towards the steps. Hoping that the moonlight will be enough to help them navigate the field and that the train station will be as empty as it originally was. While thinking Sam’s mind gets caught on something.

“Dean, how did you make it down here without the demons catching you?” Sam asks quietly.

His brother doesn’t answer at first, turning back to look at him and Sam knows he’s debating on whether Dean should tell him or not.

“There was a guy in a trench coat; he showed up after you left and told me to leave,” Dean informs him, turning back, “Told me he would distract them or something.”

 “A guy in a trench coat? Was he a demon?”

“No, he wasn’t a demon. I don’t know what he was,” Dean remarks and when Sam looks at him incredulously he frowns, “How’d you make it down then?”

Sam flinches and bites his lip.

“I… um,” Sam licks his lips, “A god I think. I know he wasn’t a demon.”

“A god? Really?” Dean asks disbelievingly, but drops it when he sees the statue in front of the stairs, “Didn’t think I’d be happy to see that thing again.”

With the end in sight both of them rush towards it and down the stairs. There’s a moment of disconnect for Sam when instead of stepping onto a stone step he hits water. The momentum sends them both waist-deep into the freezing cold water and Dean curses.

“Son of a bitch!”

They hurry out of the water but before either of them can say anything they hear voices coming from the town. Dean looks around quickly before spotting a few bushes and tugs on Sam’s sleeve as he moves towards them. They’re hidden before the demons get down to the water’s edge and Sam sighs in relief. When he turns to Dean though he grimaces. His brother’s hand is shaking slightly as he watches the demons.

“Dean…”

Sam watches as Dean slowly looks away from them, at first looking at the ground before looking towards the field.

“Great,” he groans.

Turning Sam sees the station, lit up like a bright star in the dark expanse of the night sky. Sam can see why Dean grimaced: the lights are reflected off of water all the way across the field. Somehow between the time that they were crossed and now, the field has become a river.

Sam glances along the water’s illuminated surface, looking for anything to allow them passage, when he notices one of the lights is moving across the water. As it moves closer and closer Sam starts to make out the details to find that it’s a boat. He nudges Dean and when Dean turns back to look at him he points towards it. The faint sound of music starts to fill the air, presumably from the boat. It looks like an old steam-powered ferry boat only the wood of this boat is a glowing gold. When it gets nearer to shore Sam can see that there a jewels along the columns and railings. As it docks they both watch as the doors open and the passengers exit. Like the demons, at first they seem human but the images start to flicker and soon there appearances are switching back and forth. When Sam sees one particular figure switch from a dark-skinned women to a figure with blue skin and a chain of heads around her neck Sam knows what they are.

“More gods,” he mumbles, swallowing thickly as he watches them disembark the ship.

Dean shakes his head, “We’re so dead.”

“Not if you do as I say,” a gruff voice says from behind them.

Both of them jump and turn their guns onto the owner of the voice. After he doesn’t move to attack Sam takes in the dark ruffled hair, the blue eyes, and the trench coat and lowers his weapon. Dean speaks first, growling at the being.

“Yeah? Do you have a way to get us across that river then?”

He shakes its head, looking down, “It’s too late for that now. They already know that humans are here, they won’t stop until they find you.”

He looks back up at them and holds out its hands to them, “You need to eat these.”

In his palms are two pieces of chocolate.

“And why should we do that?” Dean asks, moving to get in front of Sam slightly, “Are you fae or something?”

The being frowns and glares at the two of them, “No, I’m not a creature of the glade. And because if you don’t your eyes will burn out of your sockets. Humans aren’t equipped to look at the true forms of angels; you can barely handle demons and the lesser Gods.”

“Angels?” Dean shakes his head, “There’s no such thing. You’re lying.”

“Have I steered you wrong so far, Dean?” the being asks, tilting his head. He keeps eye contact with Dean until Dean has to look away, making an impatient noise. Sam isn’t sure what to believe at the moment. He’s always hoped that there were angels but after Dean went to hell he couldn’t hold onto the faith he had.

“What’s your name?” Dean asks firmly, breaking Sam out of his train of thought.

“I’m Castiel,” he says, plainly but with the tiniest hint of pride, “I’m an angel of Thursday.”

Dean rolls his eyes and grabs the chocolate from Castiel, “Alright Castiel, I know your name now so don’t try to cross me or you’ll regret it.” He hands Sam the other piece of chocolate before eyeing his own. Taking a glance towards Castiel he sighs and bites into it. Sam follows suit and finds that it tastes just like chocolate but it fills him up with warmth and a light feeling. When he’s finished Sam takes a look back at the boat to find that the god’s forms have stopped switching and have stayed on their human-like appearances.

Sam turns back to the angel.

“So what now, Cas?” Dean asks and Castiel looks puzzled by the nickname, or, about as puzzled as the angels stoic face can get. Before he answers though he looks up suddenly, concentrating on something in the sky before suddenly Sam feels Castiel’s hand pull him forward and push down, he hears Dean shout a ‘hey’ before there’s the sound of feathers unfurling, like a bird only louder and a shadow falls over them. Sam doesn’t breath for a moment and he stares at the ground in disbelief before slowly looking up. Sure enough there are four large wings covering them. They’re dark, obsidian black, but Sam can see also blue shine to them as well. Sam looks over to see Dean is also stunned, eyes shifting back and forth between the feathers. There’s something else in Dean’s expression though that has Sam puzzled. Dean looks as if he’s trying to remember something.

The wings unfurl slowly and then disappear, turning the Winchester’s attention to Castiel again.

“We need to move,” he says, and before either of them can comment he places two of his fingers to their foreheads.

The sensation is kind of like the time Dean took Sam on a Sizzler at a county fair. They’re moving in one direction at a fast speed while also moving in another at the same speed. Sam feels as if his guts are the ones who are slamming into each other instead of Dean and him. When they finally stop it takes a moment for Sam’s vision to catch up and realize that they are in a darkened corner near the bridge.

The hotel is even more impressive at night, with all of the lights now on. They’re not just simple off white lights either. Sam sees all sorts of different colored lights coming from the hotel’s windows. There’s a steady stream of creatures heading across the bridge and towards the hotel. None of them have noticed their presence luckily.

“Did you just take us flying?” Dean says groggily, steadying himself by placing his hand on the ground.

“No,” Castiel states, looking out at the bridge, “I go much faster flying.”

Dean groans at the thought before looking around.

“Why are we back here?”

Castiel stands, keeping his eye on the bridge, “We need to cross the bridge so that I can get you to Cain. He can help stop the others from coming after you.”

Castiel leans down and places his hands on both of their chests lightly. Suddenly a sharp searing pain flashes through Sam’s system and he gasps. Beside him he hears Dean curse.

“What was that for?” Dean asks as he rubs his chest. Castiel straightens back up.

 “A spell to keep you both hidden as we make our way to Cain,” Castiel tells them, “It’s a joint spell so if one of your breaks it then you both will become visible. As long as you don’t do anything stupid no creature will see you. ”

“What qualifies as stupid?” asks Sam as he stands with Dean. 

“Anything but walking,” Castiel states before moving towards the bridge. Sam glances quickly at Dean to see his brother assessing Castiel. He turns to Sam and shrugs trailing after the angel.

Stepping out into the open, even though Castiel seems trustworthy, grinds against Sam’s hunter instincts but he moves on. None of the demons or gods—and angels too, Sam suspects—see them as they make their way to the bridge. They do notice Castiel though and many of them say hello or some other greeting. One or two try to stop him to talk but he waves them off with an excuse.

“Can you move a little faster here?” Dean whispers, gripping the colt tighter. Castiel turns to glare at both of them, pointedly keeping his mouth closed and not saying anything to them.

When they reach the bridge Sam notices that there are small lights inside of the ironwork railings. Orbs of many different colors floating in between the metal weavings, emitting a small glow. They wait for a few of the gods to pass through; now human looking. However their jewelry and some of their garments give away their true identities. Stepping onto the bridge they make their way. With all of the people it’s loud and crowded on the bridge, disorienting, but Sam can make out a familiar voice that stops both him and Dean in their tracks.

They turn their heads wildly searching for the source until they spot him. Azazel leans against the opposite railing talking to some other beings. The demon smiles and Sam feels his stomach turn, anger boiling in his gut. This is their chance to get justice for their family, for Jess and mom and their dad. For Dean’s time in hell.  Sam looks over at Dean and sees his knuckles turning white from how tightly he’s gripping the colt. Dean glances at Sam and Sam knows he’s asking permission because if they do this now the spell will break and they’ll be revealed.  Sam nods anyway. Sam turns back to face Azazel while Dean shouts, “Hey! Yellow-eyes!” as soon as there’s a clear space between them and the demon.

Azazel turns towards the voice but he must not see anything yet. Looking Azazel dead in the eyes, Dean aims, and fires.

The spell breaks as soon as Dean pulls the trigger. In Sam’s peripheral vision he sees several of the beings near them jump back but he doesn’t care. Both Dean and Sam hold their breath as they watch the yellow-eyed demon’s body flash and he collapses.

The bridge goes deathly quiet. Dean exhales and his whole body relaxes with the exit of his breath. In just a second though he stiffens at the murmuring through the crowds. His eyes move back and forth to the creatures around them. One of them shouts ‘Humans!’ and Sam and Dean step back towards the railing. Before either of them can try to make a run for it a loud explosion of sound, a mixture of feathers and howling wind, occurs and Sam’s vision is clouded by blackness. He feels a hand grip his bicep tightly and then feels the world shift under his feet quickly, although different from before, faster.

When they arrive the hand unleashes him and he falls onto his ass, Dean beside him. Sam holds his head as a headache blooms near his temple. He looks up to see that they’re outside still, in a garden off to the side of the building. Sam can still hear the shouts from the bridge and up in the windows Sam can see lights flickering violently behind the curtains.

Castiel stands in front of them, wings folded away now, and glares at them both.

“I told you two not to do anything stupid,” Castiel snarls, eyes moving back to the door every few seconds, “Killing Lilith’s right hand man would be considered at the very top of the list of stupid.”

“He killed our family! He got Sammy killed and I went to hell because of that bastard!” Dean growls back at the angel, glaring up at him. A glossy sheen over his eyes from either the pain in his head or maybe from the realization that it’s over and that Azazel is finally dead. Sam doesn’t know which but he tries to draw Castiel’s attention away from Dean to give him a moment of respite.

“Castiel, Azazel is the reason we’re here,” Sam says, pleading, “We came to kill him for what he’s done to us and stop him from doing it to others.”

Castiel stays silent but his eyes soften, just a bit. They can still hear the rushed and panicked voices of the bridge but Sam finds himself relaxing just a bit. Knowing that at least one being doesn’t seem to want them dead.

“Now what?” Dean asks, calmer. The storm that flooded his eyes before now tempered. He looks up at Castiel, “Are you done helping us or what? Cause if not we need to know now so we can find our own way out of this.”

A loud noise comes from the hotel and none of them make a sound, staring at the double doors that lead out to the garden. When nothing comes out Sam breathes a sigh of relief and looks up at Castiel again. The angel is still staring at the door until he blinks, looking down and then at them.

“I will still help you but you have to make the rest of the journey on your own,” he tells them, crouching down closer to them.

“You see the gate in the fence over there?” he asks, motioning towards it with his head, “When I leave the garden go out through there and down the steps. Once you reach the very bottom there will be a door. Go through it and follow the hallway, it will lead you to Cain.”

“Who is this Cain guy? Is he actually...” Dean asks.

Castiel nods, “The very Cain. He’s the storage keeper here. When you meet him you must ask to work for him. Don’t let him turn you away, make a contract with him. It’s the only way to ensure your relative safety. If you work for the hotel no other worker will harm you and the patrons won’t kill you.”

Another loud sound fills the garden and Castiel stands. Sam thanks the angel and Dean gives his own thanks as well. Castiel nods and makes his way out of the garden.

“Will we see you again?” Dean asks, lifting himself up to stand before Castiel makes it to the steps.

“Yes,” Castiel says, grabbing the door handle, “As long as you succeed.”

He opens the door, nodding goodbye to them, before stepping inside and shutting the door behind him. Sam thinks he hears someone say Castiel’s name behind the door but can’t be too sure. Sam breathes deeply before hoisting himself off the ground. “We should get going,” he tells Dean who is still looking at the door.

“Yeah,” Dean agrees before shrugging his bag onto his shoulder more securely.

Quietly they make their way to the gate and unlatch it, pushing it open and slipping by.

“Oh wow,” Dean says sarcastically, eyebrows raised at the amount of stairs. Sam thinks they may honestly go down for a half a mile. He turns back to Sam and shakes his head disbelievingly before taking the first few steps. Sam shuts the gate and pushes the latch down before making his way down. They go slowly since there are no railings.

Looking out Sam’s marveled by what he can see stretched out to the side of them. While most is hidden in darkness Sam can see that far below them is mostly dry rock for miles and the train tracks shine from the moonlight. The number of the stairs is a mixed blessing, Sam thinks. He’s finally given a chance to catch their breath but the anxiety is still thrumming under his skin. On one plus side is that now that the sun has set its chilled down, the sweat on the back of his neck cooling and soothing him.

When they do reach the bottom of the steps, around thirty feet above the ground, there is a wooden door leading inside the building. Upon opening the door the first thing that hits them is the sound of loud buzzing that floods out of the room. It’s dark and dimly lit but Sam sees multiple wooden shelves in the room. Each of the shelves are packed with different items: skulls, jars of herbs, even caged animals. Up ahead Sam sees where the source of light is coming from, behind the last shelf, but he cannot see the light itself.

There’s also the distinct smell of honey coming from the space.

Sam turns to see Dean sharing his look of confusion.

“You know what,” Dean says shaking his head and entering the building, “I’m done trying to figure this place out.”

Frowning, Sam follows Dean after he shuts the door behind them.

The buzzing gets louder and louder and Sam notices that the shelves seem to go on forever when he turns to look down there rows. Sometimes they can hear the noises of animals and birds growling or chirping in their cages. Even the splashing of water.

At the end of the shelves they discover the source of the buzzing. Hanging above the room on the wooden beams are large bee hives, now visible from the better light. Honey stains some of the walls and under some of the bigger hives Sam can see some buckets left out to stop the honey from dripping onto the floor. The space is open and decorated sparingly. There are a few man made bee hives against the left wall in the corner. Also on the left wall is a fireplace to which a couch faces across. Also in the room is a large armchair, a table near it with a lamp and book placed on top, a dish cabinet, a dresser, and a king sized bed. The bedspread reminds Sam of the few odd times John would leave them at a trusted hunter’s house in the Midwest. The folky pattern out of place in the strange room.

There is also a desk with a phone and large book near the bed. More importantly there is a man standing behind the desk, leaning over as he checks over the book and writes something down on it. He’s wearing simple work clothes and has a peppered beard along with a full head of hair. He doesn’t seem to have noticed them but as much as Sam doesn’t want to he knows they need to talk to him. Sam clears his throat and calls out to the man.

“Hello? Um, are you,” Sam pauses, swallowing, “Are you Cain?”

The man looks up from the book—thankfully no black eyes—and frowns at them, before answering.

“Yes, can I help you?” he says gruffly, putting the pencil down.

Dean stiffens beside him but Sam holds back the urge, trying to seem friendly.

“Ah we were told to ask you for jobs.”

“I’ve got all the workers I need,” Cain says as he closes the book and moves from behind the desk.  His boots making the wooden floorboards creak.

Dean rolls his shoulders back, “I don’t see anybody but you here.”

Cain fixes them both with a look, as if they’re stupid, before gesturing to the hives above them.

“That’s because you’re looking for the wrong type of worker,” he tells them, still holding his hand out.

Dean and Sam glance up to see the clusters of bees flying around. It’s then that Sam notices that some of the clusters are carrying the objects form the shelves to several holes in the wall where shoots go up into the ceiling. He watches as one cluster places a jar containing a glowing bug into a shoot and as it’s pulled up.

“Bees?” Dean says incredulously, “Really? You have worker bees? Aren’t they a little small?”

 “They come in handy,” Cain says as a cluster of bees gathers around his open palm before dispersing, leaving the Colt in his hand.

This time both Dean and Sam stiffen, Sam faintly hears Dean curse beside him. Most of it blocked out by the nervous rushing sound of blood to his head as they’re left without the one weapon that could help them.

“Now, they don’t make an effort to tell me much of what goes on up there, and I don’t care to know, but I hear things anyway. I’m going to make an educated guess and say that you two are the ones who shot Azazel tonight?” Cain asks, examining the gun in his hands now. Grimacing Sam and Dean nod in reply, having no other choice. When Cain has his answer he continues, “And that you’ve come to me so that I’ll make a contract with you, stopping anyone from ripping your punishment out of you?”

Dean squares his shoulders, glaring at Cain, “Yeah, so are you going to help us or should we start running?”

Cain tilts his head and glares back, “I don’t even know your names.”

“We’re Sam and Dean Winchester,” Dean spits out, “Are you happy now?”

At their names Cain’s expression changes from one of annoyance to one of disbelief. He eyes them both up and down before speaking, “Winchester?”

The new question Dean grows more irritated, nodding his head and growling out, “Yes, Winchester. So does that mean you’ll help us or wha-”

The sound of sudden knocking makes them all flinch and turn towards the door behind Cain.

“Hey, Cain! I brought your gloves back,” says a female sounding voice from behind the door before it opens. Stepping through the doorway is a small woman with brown curly hair. She’s wearing a black leather jacket and a purple top and necklace along with jeans and boots. At first she doesn’t notice the additional members of the room, placing the gloves on the desk, “Can’t believe they had me trimming rose bushes. I thought with my promotion they’d stop giving me grunt work.”

Finally she turned away from the desk to see them all. Her face is heart-shaped and she’s very pretty, even though when she spots them her face turns to one of anger.

“The humans!” she growls out, eyes turning black as she stalks towards them.

Before Dean and Sam turn to run Cain calls out to the other demon, “Meg, wait.”

Meg turns to glare at Cain, “Wait? Cain they killed Azazel, everyone is looking for them…”

“I know,” Cain says curtly, free hand moving to his face so he can rub the bridge of his nose, eyes closed.

Meg’s eyes change back to normal and she glances back and forth from the boys and Cain, “If you know that why are you asking me to wait? Cain, you may be one of the first of us but the angels are angry too.”

 Cain sighs, looking up at the ceiling, “They’re my descendants.”

Sam’s eyes widen and he stares at Cain in shock, confused.

“Your descendants?” Meg asks, turning to scrutinize them both.

Cain sighs again before heading towards the desk and grabbing the gloves. He moves towards his dresser, “Yes, I need you to help them get to the top. They’re going to have to ask them for a job if they’re going to live.”

Meg stares at him, shaking her head, “You think they’ll hire them? Really?”

Cain shrugs, shutting the drawer, both of his hands now empty.

“The angels are practical, they’ll want to get their worth out of them,” he says, “So is Lilith for that matter.”

She shakes her head, “Cain, you’re on your own. I can’t risk it.”

Sighing Cain, goes back to the desk, “I’ll make it worth your while if you do,” he says, opening the book, “I’ll take some of your years.”

Upon hearing this Meg’s eyes widen, “How many?”

Cain shakes his head, not looking up, “That’s a discussion for another time, Meg. You need to get these two up there now; they’ll be coming down to check here soon.”

She bites her lip, staring at Cain before quickly turning to look Sam and Dean again. She shakes her head before turning and walking back towards the door.

“Hurry up boys,” she calls after them, exiting the room and turning right.

Sam and Dean stare at the empty doorway still at a loss for words before Cain speaks up again.

“You better get going, she won’t wait for you.”

They turn to each other, Sam biting his lip and Dean clenching his fists. Dean shrugs hurriedly though before turning and walking briskly after Meg. Before Dean passes Cain’s desk he stops, muttering a ‘thank you’ to Cain that Sam repeats.

“You’re welcome,” Cain says sternly, not looking up at either of them.

With that they cross over the doors threshold and find themselves in a short hallway. To their right is an elevator that Meg is standing in. Once they’re in the elevator the doors shut and it begins its ascension up. It’s a tense ride up, none of them saying anything at first. The elevator is like most others only Sam notices that there are windows at the top of it. Red light flashing by as they pass floors. The silence is broken by Meg’s voice as she stares ahead at the doors.

“Cain better be taking a lot of my years,” she murmurs, “I could get in so much shit for this.”

Not wanting to return to the painful silence Sam shifts on his feet, quietly asking her, “What do you mean by taking years?”

The silence falls again and Sam fidgets. They go past two more floors before she answers.

“You poor saps have no idea what you’re getting yourselves into do you?” She asks, turning to them for the first time since they left Cain’s room.  

“He’s taking some of the years I have left under my contract,” Meg informs them, looking back at the doors, “When you make a contract it’s for a certain number of years and depending on if you cause more problems or go above and beyond they’ll change.”

Sam and Dean both swallow at that.

“At least,” she continues, tilting her head, “That’s how demons do it. I don’t know about the angels.”

Before her last words leave the elevator stops and the doors open up. Standing in front of them is a short man wearing a black suit and red tie with receding black hair. Noticing Sam and Dean his eyes widen and he turns toward Meg, looking at her for an answer. When she doesn’t give him one besides glaring at him he shakes his head, smirking as he enters the elevator. Not pressing the elevator button once he glances at the floor illuminated.

“What’s this about the angels, dear?” he asks Meg but looking up at Sam and Dean again. Both of them shifting uncomfortably under his gaze; Sam can feel Dean clench his fists beside him.

Meg sighs, “Nothing really, Crowley, I was just saying that I don’t know why the angels work so hard.”

“Oh they’re just trying to fill up the hole left by daddy,” Crowley scoffs, rolling his eyes, “It’s pathetic but you do have to appreciate the work ethic.”

“You should watch where you say that, Crowley.”

The other demon smirks and shakes his head, “They wouldn’t dare. I’m too good at my job, dear,” he says before the doors open and he steps out. He nods towards them, “I’ll see you around. Maybe,” he comments, chuckling and heading down the hallway.

“I hate that pompous ass,” Meg hisses before stomping out of the elevator, “Come on, that elevator won’t take us to where we need to go.”

The boys keep up behind her as she walks down the opposite hall than Crowley. Around them they can hear voices laughing and chatting. Occasionally the sound of an animal. Meg leads them down a few hallways before Sam can see the elevator. Sam’s unsure whether to feel relieved or worried. There’s not time to mull the though over though because a voice calls out Meg’s name and she curses.

“Looks like I won’t be going with you all the way, good luck boys,” she murmurs as she waves her hand towards the elevator, opening the doors, and Sam feels a familiar tug that sends both him and Dean forward by an invisible force. Their reflexes stop them from banging their heads against the elevator wall but Dean still swears. Sam looks towards the elevator control panel to see the top button push in by itself and the doors slide shut.

They don’t speak at first, simply waiting as the elevator heads up the floors, but Sam watches as Dean rubs his eyes worriedly.

“Sam if this ends badly I’m sorry I got you into this. It wasn’t your…” Dean starts until Sam interrupts him.

“I made the choice to come too, Dean,” Sam tells him, keeping eye contact to make sure Dean believes him, “I wanted Azazel dead as much as you. Don’t blame yourself for this okay.”

Dean pauses, mulling over Sam’s words before nodding. After two more floors the elevator finally slows and stops. It’s doors opening to reveal another long hallway only this floor only has one way to go. It’s decorated in a very old Victorian style. The couches and chairs elegant and the walls are decorated in fine finishing and the color of the walls are like jewel stones.

They step out of the elevator and glance around. Dean eyeing some of the fine paintings that hang along the walls.

“I guess it’s too late to turn around now, Sammy?”

Before Sam can comment a voice from behind them utters, “Much too late, boys.”

Even as fast as they try to turn around and step back it’s not quick enough to escape the fingers that reach and press against their foreheads. The world shifts as it did with Castiel and Sam stumbles, catching himself on a desk in the new room. He swallows nervously, waiting for his head to stop spinning before he attempts to see where they are now. As the world comes together again Sam notices the flickering light on the ground and turns to see a fire place helping to illuminate the room. It’s an office Sam realizes as he looks around. It’s decorated the Sam way as the hallway only much more cluttered with items. Just on one table in front of the fireplace Sam notices a few antiques of different types: an old brass telescope, a golden protractor, and a few medical scalpels. 

Glancing at Dean he sees his brother glaring at something from behind the desk. Sam turns around to see an angel standing there in a gray suit. His four wings are brown with darker brown highlights. He’s also balding and has a malicious grin on his face as he speaks to them.

“So, Sam and Dean Winchester,” he says, his wings tucking in and disappearing from behind him, “Looks like you’ve finally got your revenge huh? Hope you’re still happy with it after we’re through with you.”

Dean stiffens beside him, growling, “Who are you?”

The angel smiles again and comes closer to the desk, “Looks like your Dad never taught you manners. You should show me more respect but fine… I’m called Zachariah.”

Sam straightens up and huffs.

“You in charge here?” he asks firmly, trying to keep his ground even when Zachariah moves his cruel gaze from Dean to him.

“In a way,” Zachariah says, chuckling softly at some inside joke. Above them they hear loud shuffling, feathers again, only this time it sounds like there are more than Castiel or Zachariah’s. Sam looks up only to find total darkness past the first large wooden beam. He swallows before looking back to the angel in front of them.

“We want to make a contract,” he says, holding back his wince when Zachariah starts to laugh.

“A contract? You think we’ll let you make a contract after you just killed one of our best employees?”

“Best employee huh?” Dean asks, infuriated, eyes narrowing, “Is murdering mothers and having a bunch of kids kill each other in the job description then?”

Sam flinches at the mention of Cold Oak but keeps his eyes on Zachariah. He watches as the angel rolls his eyes.

“No, not that you’ll kno-” he starts before looking off behind them. They turn to see the doors open and two women walk into the room. The one is blonde wearing a white dress while the other is brunette, darker than Meg, and has a leather jacket on. The dark haired woman stops a foot away from them but the blonde continues until she is right next to them. Sam and Dean both shiver under her gaze, feeling the power she’s exuding into the room. She watches them for a moment before turning to Zachariah.

“Are these the ones?” she asks, her voice soft but aloof.

Zachariah nods, “Yes, these are the boys who shot your right hand man, Lilith. I was just coming up with ways that we could punish them before you came in.”

She stops listening to him halfway through, shifting her gaze back up at Sam. In an instant she has her hand up and gripping Sam’s jaw. He nails digging into Sam’s cheek enough to make Sam wince. He sees Dean move to take her but just as fast as she had grabbed Sam he’s held into place. Her eyes rolled back into her head as she speaks, “Now Zach, that’s just a waste of these boy’s talents. If they were able to get their hands on something that could kill Azazel _and_ track him down they’re worth more than strapping them to the racks.”

Zachariah frowns, “Lilith, I think we should discuss this. They’re a pack of wild dogs, we don’t want them messing everything we’ve all worked for.”

Finally Lilith lets go of Sam’s jaw and he steps back, rubbing at where her nails have probably left marks.

“Azazel was under my jurisdiction,” she says, tilting her head to turn towards Dean and look him up and down, “I have the right to decide what their punishment will be.”

With a flick of her wrist she lets Dean go and her eyes roll back down from behind her head. She reaches across the desk to pull out two pieces of paper from a pile and snaps her fingers. The blank pages fill with writing and she places them down onto the desk.

“Three hundred years each,” she says stepping away from the desk to give them room.

Dean stares at her in disbelief, “Three hundred years?”

Lilith smiles, “Oh don’t worry, silly, you won’t age a day here. It’ll go by quickly.”

This doesn’t ease Dean’s concern but Sam moves forward and takes a pen from the desk to sign it.

“Sam hold up,” Dean says, gripping his wrist to stop him.

Sam shakes his head and looks at Dean, “It’s not like we have much of a choice, Dean.” He pulls his hand from Dean’s grip and his brother lets him go easily.  Sam signs his name and swallows; he hands the pen to Dean and then takes the contract to hold it out towards Lilith.

She smiles up at him sweetly and Sam holds back the urge throw up as she takes it from him. When Dean has signed his contract she takes his as well. “Well, I’m sure you’ll want to draw up your own contracts so I’ll take my leave,” Lilith states as she turns and walks towards the doorway, “I’ve appointed Ruby as my new second-in-command. I thought you’d like to be informed.”

Zachariah frowns but nods, “Thank you for the update.”

When Lilith passes Ruby she follows her to the door, stopping when Lilith pauses, her hand on the door knob. She doesn’t turn around but Lilith inclines her head back slightly. “Your errand boy is outside waiting by the way,” she tells them before opening the door and stepping out.

When she leaves out their sight Zach huffs and shakes his head, “You two should be _very_ thankful for the mercy that’s just been imposed on you.”

Sam wants to make the comment that three hundred years isn’t very merciful but resists. Keeping his mouth shut in case his stomach decides to empty itself onto the fancy carpet he’s standing on. Zachariah pulls out two other pieces of paper and slides his hand over both of them, filling them with words.

“This contract is the same as the one she had you sign,” Zachariah states as he holds the papers out to them. When they hesitate to take them her shakes his head, “Oh, for… I swear on my own grace this is the same contract. You can’t be hired by only one half of this establishment, boys.”

Dean and Sam share a glance before taking the contracts and signing them. As they do Zachariah looks over them into the hallway, calling out, “Come in, we’re going to need you to escort them down and find a place for them to work.”

After they’ve both signed Sam takes them and hands them to Zachariah. Turning to see the person who will take them back downstairs and finding Castiel standing there. His expression stoic and unemotional, even more so than before, as if he doesn’t recognize them.

“Come with me,” he says coldly and even though Sam feels his stomach drop at the tone he follows after Castiel.

{:}

If Sam thought his stomach felt upset before it’s nothing compared to how it is now. He can see Dean biting his lip in an attempt at holding back the urge to scream as the yelling gets louder and louder. For over fifteen minutes the demons and angels have been arguing over where to place them. Neither side wants them and they’re unapologetic in their comments about the humans. Even so Sam prefers this over the elevator ride down surprisingly. When they had left the office Castiel was still aloof towards them. And in the elevator no matter what Dean or Sam said he continued to act emotionlessly toward them.

Sam looks up towards the ceiling or really the lack thereof. They’re in the main lobby an open space that has several couches and coffee tables spread out as a waiting area. The furniture is just the same as in the upper office, elegant Victorian style. What’s most beautiful though is that above them is a straight shoot up that is covered in clouds. As if they could pass through the building. At the moment they’re dark and we’re there are no clouds Sam can see the stars inside of the building. Sam’s almost positive that none of the floors above ever cross over the lobby view besides the ceiling. And even then it could open as well. Each floor has balconies circling the lobby so that you can see it from all of them.

“They’re a bunch of mud monkeys, we don’t need them messing up the records.”

“How can we expect them to help out with cleaning if they can’t lift five-hundred pounds?”

“What if they kill one of them? We’ll lose all of our guests! I don’t want Michael or Raphael after my head!”

“Hah, they’ll at least kill you! Lilith will have us back on the racks in no time if they mess up on our watch.”

Castiel’s frown deepens and he scans the crowd while speaking grimly, “If they do ‘mess up’ then it will be on them. They are employees just like all of you. We simply need somewhere to place them. If they don’t do well then they will be punished accordingly.”

Sam can hear Dean growl beside him, his fists curling tightly.

The room falls to quiet murmurs but no one steps up to the plate to take Dean and Sam under their wing. Castiel looks around and sighs, closing his eyes for a moment in frustration before opening them again. Even though Castiel is an angel Sam’s almost positive that he’s exhausted somehow. One more look around the room and Castiel fixes his gaze one someone.

“Meg,” he says and Meg shakes her head.

“No, Castiel, no way.”

 Castiel smirks, “You were just saying the other day how you’d like more help in your duties. Here are your helpers,” he says tauntingly.

Next to Meg, Sam sees Crowley chuckle whisper something to her as the rest of the room dissipates of the other beings. He leaves soon after and so does Castiel, the angel not even making a backwards glance towards them. Meg frowns and pushes herself off of the couch, crossing her arms, “Come on boys let’s get going.”

Begrudgingly they follow her towards the elevator again, filing in behind her before she presses the button for an above floor. It’s quiet before finally Meg chuckles.

“I can’t believe you guys actually managed to not die,” she says, smiling with her eyebrows raised, “You’re a lot more capable than I thought.”

Dean sighs, collapsing against the back wall, finally done trying to keep alert, “Three hundred years isn’t very capable.”

Meg eyes both of them and then shakes her head, hair falling to cover her face.

“It’s a lot better than you think,” she murmurs and the conversation ends there.

They exit the elevator and head towards the side of the building. She opens the door to a medium sized room with door leading to one of the decks circling the building. It’s furnished just like most single room hotel rooms. There’s a phone on the bed side table next to the single, but thankfully large, bed and a small table with two chairs. Meg tells them that she doesn’t sleep and that tonight she’ll let them have the room for themselves until she comes to get them tomorrow. She leaves them once she shows them the bathroom and tells them that if they go outside to lock the door before they go to bed.

Dean drops his pack onto the ground and tugs off his leather jacket. Placing it over one of the chairs before sitting on the bed. He doesn’t move so Sam takes off his pack and then his over shirt too. Climbing onto the bed, about to say something to lighten the mood but then Dean shudders and puts his head in his hands. Sam watches his brother’s back before closing his eyes and pushing out a hard breath. Wondering what tomorrow will entail and if either of them will get any sleep tonight.

{:}

“I’ve never been so tired in in my life,” Dean mutters into the pillow of the bed. As soon as they came back to the room he had collapsed into the soft duvet and refused to move even to take off his dirty clothes. Sam sits on the edge of the bed and sees Meg shake her head, smiling to herself.

“You’ll get used to it, Deano, it’s only been the first week,” she remarks before heading towards the bathroom, “I get dibs on the shower first.”

Sam nods and hears Dean grunts in confirmation.

With Meg gone Sam takes off his dirty jacket—they dealt with a god of waste today—and tosses it to the floor. Falling onto his back and closing his eyes. Sam remembers working in a restaurant during his time at Stanford, trying to save up money just in case he didn’t get his scholarship anymore. He remembers hating dealing with customers but right now he would take any horrible _human_ customer over a god. Meg’s job was really a bunch of jobs stuffed into one. Every day they went down to the lobby and we’re assigned different tasks; whether it was cleaning up a trashed room, being errand boys for another room, or anything really. Sam had no idea how they would ever make it through three hundred years of it. 

Sam hears the faint sound of the shower turning on and Meg whistling some nameless tune. Just as he’s about to fall asleep the sound of fluttering wings enters the bedroom and Sam opens his eyes to see Castiel standing there.

Dean’s the first one to sit up, ready to say his name but Castiel holds his finger to his mouth. He walks over towards the bed, Sam sitting up now, and places his fingers on their foreheads.

_‘Meet me at the bridge tomorrow morning, when everyone is resting.’_

The angel then steps away nodding to them both before disappearing again.

Sam glances over at Dean to gauge his reaction. Dean doesn’t say anything at first before huffing and scratching at his jaw.

“Do you think we should go? He was a dick to us the other night,” he murmurs, finally reaching done to undo the laces of his boots.

Sam looks away in thought. Castiel had helped them more than enough to warrant some of their trust. Even though his cold behavior unsettled them both, Sam had a feeling that it was unavoidable. If the other beings knew that Castiel had helped them the angel could be have gotten into more trouble.

“I think we should,” Sam replies, “At least we should see whatever it is he wants to show us.”

Dean nods after a moment, grumbling again, “Well if we’re gonna wake up that early we better get to bed soon. I call the shower after Meg.”

Luckily for them Meg takes a quick shower. Dean’s out in his usual five minute shower and Sam goes as quickly as he can. Meg decided to let them have the room to themselves for one more night thankfully and so when they wake up in the morning they don’t need to worry about giving her some bullshit excuse. The hallways are empty and while there a few murmurs here and there it’s relatively quiet. They both brought their knives just in case.

The lobby is also as empty as the hotels, very different from their first night when the demons and angels had been arguing and also different from their first work night when it was filled with gods. Above the ‘sky’ is still as beautiful as it was before, this time light blue from the day with puffy white clouds passing through.

They make their way outside to find Castiel waiting for them at the other end of the bridge.

“What’s this about, Cas?” Dean asks the angel curtly.

The angel tilts his head at the nickname again before speaking calmly, “I understand it must be difficult to trust me again after my behavior towards you the other night.

“Yeah, and not mentioning those three hundred years was a minus too.”

At the mention of their time Sam grimaces.

“That’s not very much Dean, the demon you’re working with, Meg, hers is for two thousand,” Castiel informs them and Sam think back to Meg’s sullen face the other night.

“Even still, I’m trying to find a way to lessen your time,” Castiel says, “It would have helped if you hadn’t killed anybody but I understand your reasons.”

Castiel changes the subject before either of them can protest.

“As I was saying I know that you may not feel that you can trust me. I’m going to try to prove you wrong,” the angel says before leaning up to tap both of their foreheads with his fingers. Pulling them through space and time again, when they land the recovery time is much quicker. Sam notices that the building they’ve come to is a bar.

The bar is warm but not uncomfortably so.  The furniture and bar counter are well kept with only a little dust in the corners of it. The lights are dim and make the wood darker than it actually is. The smell of beer and peanuts fills the room. It only takes a few seconds for them to realize where they are.

“This is…” Sam starts but doesn’t finish, to distracted by the impossibility of them being here. The entire building looks the same. Not a single detail is different from what Sam remembers of The Roadhouse.

“How is this possible?” Dean asks as he turns to Castiel. The angel merely smiles and looks behind them, his mouth turning up to smile slightly. The expression odd on his usual impassive face.

“Buenos dias, bitches,” comes from a figure steps out from behind the bar.

{:}

Seeing Ash seemed to restore Dean’s faith in Castiel. Enjoying the company of someone who wasn’t an angel or demon even if it was only for a few hours. Castiel took them back two hours before they would need to be ready to work but had to leave right after. Mentioning that his superiors needed him to track down something and bring it back. Castiel told them to listen to Meg and wait until he got back before trying to do anything. With that he had stepped back away from them and disappeared.

“Hurry up Sammy, we can probably get an hour of sleep in,” Dean says over his shoulder, trekking over the bridge quickly.

Sam followed behind him slowly, making a small noise of commitment but still taking his time. He was enjoying the feeling of the sun on his skin. Dean called out to him to hurry it up but Sam waved him off, hearing the main doors open and close. The warmth on his skin was so pleasant that Sam tipped his head back and closed his eyes. He could handle only have a few hours of sleep if it meant he could stay out here longer. The breeze was cool but not too chilly which was nice. However when Sam crossed the bridge he felt the temperature drop slightly and he scrunched his face and opened his eyes to look at the sun.

There were no clouds blocking it now but Sam still felt chilled. To his left he felt the coldest so he turned, only to find a figure standing there. Sam flinched as if had been hit shifting into a better position to defend himself. But then he finally noticed that the figure’s attire: the white mask and black robes. he was the being who had helped Sam find Dean on the first night.

Sam opened his mouth to say something but found he didn’t know what to say. The being simply watched him for a moment, his head tilted, before then very quickly disappeared from Sam’s sight.

For a second Sam thought he heard the dull beating sound of wings but thought that it could also be his heart, beating rapidly from the shock. Sam stayed on the bridge for a few minutes, calming himself down and occasionally looking for the creature. Eventually making his way quickly back into the building and through it to their room where he found Dean already under the covers. Letting out the breath he was holding, Sam took his knife out of his pocket and shrugged off some of his clothes.

“What took you so long?” Dean asked quietly when Sam entered the room, not even turning around on the bed.

Sam bit his lip and didn’t reply back, climbing into bed and trying to get some sleep.

{:}

The beautiful clear day didn’t last into the night as Sam had hoped. It was now pouring down buckets of rain.

Sam stands in the doorway leading to the garden, trying to get some fresh air after having dealt with a group of gods who had been eating something that Sam knows was not an animal. He closes his eyes and tries to get the horrible image out of his head. The smell thankfully replaced with wet grass and flowers. Briefly Sam thinks he should go and find Dean, who said something about going to the bathroom, to get dinner but decides against it in favor of watching the rain fall.

He looks over across the garden to see a hooded figure by the rose bushes. Sam squints and makes out a brief glimpse of white. Somehow he feels even colder than he already did but Sam stays put and watches the being. He holds out its hand to touch one of the roses gently. It’s that soft touch to the rose that gives Sam the courage to call out to the being.

“Aren’t you cold?”

The masked figure turns to him, fixing his blank mask towards Sam and shakes his head.

“I’m always cold,” says the being in his deep voice, softly.

Sam hesitates for a moment, shivering under his unwavering stare, before asking, “Do you want to come in?”

Sam is met with silence again, the beings head tilting at him, and the rain pours on.

“It’s dry in here,” Sam comments, grimacing when he thinks he should just drop it. He clearly doesn’t want to come in. But, to Sam’s surprise, he makes his way over to the door. He makes it to first step and the stops, having coming up to stand in front of Sam. Sam looks at the mask, no much closer, and marvels at the detail on the forehead. It’s simple but still very elegant. The being chuckles and Sam feels his face heat up from embarrassment, stepping out of the way.

When he’s inside and walks into the hallway Sam turns back to the door and shuts it. Making sure to lock it in case the wind picks up. Sam hears him say softly, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Sam replies, turning around to find no one there again.

{:}

Sam’s sure that if Dean caught him talking to the strange masked figure there would be some words but upon finding the being again Sam couldn’t help but strike up a conversation again. Sam needed a break from Dean and Meg’s sarcasm.

“Have you been here before?” he had asked, strolling up to stand beside the being. He was leaning against the railing of the second floor balcony, looking up at the stars. Inside the building it was a cloudless night despite the onslaught of the rain they had been enduring.  

He sighs and his voice is filled with melancholy when he answers, “Yes.”

Sam plays with his hands over the balcony railing awkwardly.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No,” the being says lighter, Sam can hear the small smile in it.

Sam lets the silence fall over them. It’s nice, just looking up at the sky without having to do any work. His mind wanders a bit and Sam finds himself wondering about the first night he met his companion.

“Why did,” Sam clears his throat, “Why did you help me that night?”

It’s puzzled him since they’ve been here. Everyone here seems to be in it for themselves except for Castiel and this masked being. Sam supposes that’s why Dean has been asking around for Castiel.

He turns to see the masked face looking at him but it doesn’t feel like the same intense stare as before. He takes his time before answering Sam.

“You have a good soul. They’re hard to come by,” he remarks.

Sam blinks, flushing.

“Oh,” Sam says, coughing into his hand, “ah… thank you? Thank you.”

The masked figure nods, “And what you’ve gone through in your life… it’s admirable. You stood your ground even against your father or even when your brother didn’t support you.”

At that Sam looks away, even if he had been just as angry at John it still hurt when his father told him to never come back. And when Dean wasn’t speaking to him between that fight and when Dean had knocked on his Pal Alto apartment door were at times unbearable.

“Can you tell that just by looking at my soul?”

Sam watches as his companion nods and marvels at how that could be possible. They go back to watching the sky in comfortable silence. He smiles as he remembers that Dean had come back for him and that they had done something similar to this one night they were driving. Sam believes he hears his companion make a soft noise, maybe even pained, but thinks that it was probably something else.

{:}

“I can’t believe they stuck us with cleaning duty, this place is ridiculous,” Meg mutters as she picked food off the floor to toss into their trashcans. Dean had already needed to take them down to be emptied two times before. And Sam has yet to clean the second wall of the marks and stains. Sam had no idea how messy pagan gods could be.

“Can’t the angels mojo this all clean?” Dean asks as he turns off the vacuum to set one of the couches back into place.

Meg laughs as she lifts one of the tables to check under for any spilled debris, replying sarcastically, “No, that would be too easy wouldn’t it?”

There had been a gala the night before in the lobby’s lounge area and they were now stuck with fixing the entire room before the guests would return from their days out. Considering what the lobby had looked like before they’ve made a lot of progress.

“They always dump this kind of stuff on us demons, there’s no balance of power at all,” Meg murmurs, surveying the room.

Dean as he moves the next couch to vacuum under, “How does that even work anyway? Who decides who gets what job?”

Rolling her shoulders back Meg steps over to one of the couches and sits down, sighing.

“To put it simply, the higher ups assign surveyors to observe everyone’s progress and based on the surveyors opinions you get assigned your job.”

“Higher ups being Lilith and the archangels?” Sam asks as he scrubs away at a red handprint.

“Mmhmm,” Meg hums, “Only a hundred and fifty years and I’ll be out of here thought.” She looks up at the changing ceiling. Staring wistfully at the changing sky as it shifts form blue to the orange-pink of sunset. In a moment she snaps her head back in place and stand up; stretching and proceeding out of the lobby lounge.

“I’ll go grab your food; we don’t have a lot to finish up here.”

Dean and Sam grunt in agreement as Meg heads off.

Sam’s on his last mark when he hears Dean call out in happiness, “Done, finally.” Smiling Sam finishes up himself and throws the dirty rag into the cleaning bucket. Picking it up and taking it with him to the couch where Dean is rolling up the vacuum’s wire. Sam sits down on the couch and lets his head roll back onto its carved wooden frame. Beside him he hears Dean do the same. Sam hopes that they’re done for the night; he’d like to eat and then try to find his masked companion.

Their conversations are what may honestly be keeping Sam sane throughout this endeavor. He’s noticed that with every day that Castiel doesn’t come back Dean has grown more irritable. Sam would be in the same boat if it weren’t for his friend. Sam knows that he should tell Dean that he’s been speaking to him but since there first couple of conversations Sam has gathered a bit more information about the creature and he can’t help but be fascinated. He’s lived very, very, long—he has a very vast knowledge of history—certainly older then Meg and Sam believes he may be even older than Lilith. He’s also described places that Sam only dreams he could one day see. Sam smiles at the memory of his friend chuckling and saying that maybe he will.

“Well! Look who’s here for some fun,” shouts a voice, dragging Sam out of his thoughts. Both Sam and Dean turn around to see a pair of golden eyes and a malicious grin. Before they can say anything or even think of trying to get away, the being raises its hand and snaps its fingers.

{:}

Meg doesn’t appreciate the look she gets from the cook but that doesn’t deter her from making sure he doesn’t spit on the boys’ burgers. She’s been an evil, wicked demon for thousands of years she’s allowed to have her moments of charity.

She rounds the corner only to find a crowd of people in the hallway leading into the lobby. She growls at a few lesser demons to move out of her way as she makes her way into the lobby and into the middle of it. She doesn’t find Sam and Dean sitting where she left them, instead a giant TV stands on top of the coffee table.

“What’s going on?” she asks Naomi and Crowley who are watching the television intensely.

Crowley turns to her and sneers, “Your boys have bitten off more than they can chew.”

Puzzled Meg turns to look at what’s happening on the TV only to see the Winchesters walking around in a Hawaiian themed hotel room.

“What happened?” she asks, putting the bag of food down beside the table.

Naomi answers her this time, arms crossed, “A trickster god came in and went over to them. I didn’t think much of it until he snapped his fingers and disappeared with those two. We’ve tried pulling them our or breaking the spell but it’s strong. Stronger than it should be.”

“Did anybody try contacting them yet?” she asks and when nobody says anything Meg frowns before kneeling down in front of the TV. Placing her hands on the edge of the screen she recites the incantation. The screen flickers for a moment before turning back to normal.

“Hey boys,” Meg says, “I leave you alone for ten minutes and you get stuck inside a television with a trickster?”

At the sound of her voice both Dean and Sam look around the room wildly.

“Meg, it’s not a trickster,” Sam shouts at her through the TV, “We need holy oil, Meg! We think it’s…”

Before Sam finishes the door slams open and the not-a-trickster steps into the room. The camera focuses on his face as he hollers, “This isn’t _Who Wants to Be a Millionaire_ boys! No phoning a friend!” And before Meg can do anything he snaps his fingers and the TV signal goes to static. Meg presses the channel buttons to see if she gets anything different when she doesn’t she stands.

“Holy oil?” Naomi asks, “Do they think it’s a fallen angel? Where’s its mask?”

“Maybe it’s put up an illusion,” Meg comments, as she heads off towards the elevator, “Someone get it back to their channel!”

She doesn’t wait to see if anyone does as she asked before running back down the hall and into the elevator. Even if the majority of workers don’t like the Winchesters they at least know a threat when they see one. At least some of them.

When the elevator finally reaches Cain’s floor she sprints out of it and doesn’t bother to knock before she opens the door.

“Cain! I need holy oil!” she shouts out to him, not seeing him in the front room.

She hears his gruff voice come from somewhere between the many shelves.

“And why would you need holy oil? That’s a restricted item, Meg; I can’t give it to just anyone.”

 “I don’t need it the boys do,” she yells back to him, walking down the row of shelves to find him, “Some fallen angel has them trapped in TV land.”

Cain walks out from one of the rows of shelves up ahead of her, clipboard in hand.

“A fallen angel? Why would one come up here? They never leave Pandemonium,” Cain remarks, frowning.

 Meg shakes her head wildly.

“Sam and Dean asked for holy oil so it has to be. I don’t know why it’s here.”

He turns towards the cluster of bees gathered nearby and gives them a nod. They fly off down the shelves while he turns back to her, “Has anyone tried breaking the spell? Where are Michael and Raphael?”

“No one on ground floor can break it, I didn’t see the archangels or Lilith down there yet,” Meg tells him, shaking her head again.

She hears buzzing and the bees have returned with the jug. Cain takes it from them and leads her back down the shelves, lifting up the jug as he asks, “And how do you expect to get this to them?”

They come back to Cain’s living area and he goes over to his desk, searching through a drawer and pulling out a lighter.

“I got through to them before, that’s how they told me about the holy oil,” she says, coming up to his desk and taking the jug and lighter from him when he offers them. “I’ve crawled my way out of the lowest parts of hell, I can manage,” Meg tells him before stuffing the lighter in her jacket pocket and heading towards the door.

“Make sure it’s a complete circle, Meg,” he states before she’s out of the room and running back to the elevator.

By the time she’s made it back to the lobby they’ve gotten the channel back to the boys. This time they’re wearing suits and set in a procedural cop show. As she walks through the crowd she can see some of the angels flinch back as they catch sight of the holy oil. Even Naomi tenses when she catches the jug in Meg’s hand.

“Has anyone tried breaking the spell again?” she asks, setting down the holy oil and kneeling in front of the TV again.

Naomi shakes her head.

“No, but we do have more audience members,” Crowley remarks, looking up.

Meg squints at him before also looking up, swallowing nervously when she catches sight of Michael and Raphael. They’ve raised the clouds higher so that they don’t need to come down any lower. Zachariah watches from beside them, amused. She also spots Lilith and Ruby observing from two floors below the archangels.

Turning back to the TV Meg grabs the army knife from her back pocket, cutting the very tips of her fingers to gather some blood. She reaches up and paints the sigil onto the TV while everyone watches her. When she’s done she grabs the holy oil and holds it close to her chest. Meg makes one quick glance up again, regretting it as she shivers under the cold gazes of Michael, Raphael, and Lilith, before she presses her hand against the glass and her sigil. Reciting the incantation, Meg feels a hard tug before she’s almost falling into the TV.

The world is pitch black for a moment before she’s pulled and tugged quickly forward and sideways. Getting whiplash from the constant movement. Eventually she spots windows looking into the TV channels as she’s pushed. A few more turns and she stops suddenly at one of the shows. She sees the Dean standing inside of a park next to a black muscle car. Her spells pushes her into the room and she stumbles from the effort needed to push her past the other being’s barrier. Getting a taste of the power behind it.

“Meg!” Dean says turning to her, relieved but she can hear the nervous edge to her voice.

When the world has stopped spinning Meg swallows roughly, shaking from the aftereffects. She holds out the holly oil to Dean as she asks, “You need to make a circle, do it around where you think he’ll stand. When he appears set it on fire with the lighter.”

Dean takes the holy oil from her and then the lighter once she’s fished it out of her pocket. Walking two feet ahead of them and starting to drizzle it onto the ground. Still light headed she heads over to the car, asking over her shoulder, “Where’s Sam?”

Before Dean answers her she slaps her hands down onto the trunk to pull herself up only to hear Sam yelp. His voice sounding as if it’s come through a radio. Meg stares at the car for a moment, her brow rising as she speaks, “Sam? You in there?”

The radio flickers to static before she hears him say, “Yeah, Meg, can you take your hands off of me?”

She does as she’s asked, smirking slightly, “Is that your ass, Sam?”

Sam stays silent which is all the answer Meg needs.

When Dean is done with the circle he places the holy oil underneath the car. Looking up at the sky before he shouts at it.

“Listen up, we need to talk you son of a bitch, so get down here.”

It’s quiet for a moment and then the sound of static fills the park.

“I thought I said no phoning a friend boys?” the being asks when he appears, turning his eyes onto Meg. She shivers under the gaze feeling an even stronger power than Lilith’s.

Dean shakes his head, “Sorry to spoil your fun but we’re done playing your games.”

The sound of the lighter opening and igniting occurs and Meg watches as Dean throws it out towards the circle. Immediately the oil ignites into flames capturing the creature within it.

“Holy oil? You really think this will stop me?” he asks, glaring viciously at them.

Dean doesn’t miss the small step back the being makes from the flames and he sneers, “If that’s true then come on out of there. But I have a good hunch you’re not and if you don’t want to end up deep fried I’d suggest you turn Sam back now.”

The being frowns deeply before sighing, lighting his hand and snapping his fingers.

Meg glances over to see Dean flinch, expecting the worse, but the passenger door of the car opens up. Sam seems a little frazzled but he’s at least human now.

The trapped angel regards them calmly before inquiring, “What gave me away?”

“The way you talked about your family. It’s the same way that all of these other sad saps are,” Dean says gruffly before demanding, “Now get us out of here.”

The angel shakes his head, “Whoa, Deano, what’s the rush? Don’t you want you reward? You’re the first two to figure it out in a million years.”

Sam grumbles and shakes his head, “We don’t want anything from you.”

“Oh contraire, Sammy, you do want this,” he says before snapping both of his fingers so that two apples appear in his hands. He smirks before tossing them to the boys.

“What do these do?” Dean asks, eyeing the apple suspiciously.

The angel smiles wider, “An apple a day keeps the doctor away.”

Both of the Winchesters roll their eyes and Dean shakes his head, “Alright there, you’ve given us our reward. Now drop the spell.”

“Okay, okay,” the angel says holding his arms out, “No need to get testy, jeez.”

In the next second his eyes glow brighter and Meg feels the immensity of his power again before the world shifts. She hears a few shouts as those in the lobby are pushed back against the walls. Leaving room for the ring of holy fire and them. The TV is now gone, Meg watches as all of the hotel stares at them. Up above she sees that they still have the attention of the archangels and Lilith.

She turns back to the angel trapped in the holy fire to see him staring up at the archangels.

“Well,” he says softly, almost sadly, “I don’t think I’m ready for this reunion like I thought.”

He turns to the boys and smiles, “Family can be the worst huh?”

Before they can reply or deny the statement the angel lifts up his hands and snaps his fingers. Immediately tons of water are summoned and flood the lobby room. There are shouts and screams as it rushes past everyone and as it takes out the holy fire. In the same moment the angel’s wings are revealed, all six of them. They’re mostly brown but at the top minor coverts are a dazzling gold. The lower tips seem almost if they were dipped in a deep red. Gasps fill the room as the water settles down to their ankles.

“Meg?” she hears Sam ask as she stares.

“Gabriel,” she mutters, eyeing the six wings, “You boys found the archangel, Gabriel.”

“Archangel?” Dean asks and she turns, nodding to him. She takes a glance up to see Michael and Raphael wide eyed at the sight of their lost brother.  She turns back to Gabriel to see him look towards the boys, wings stretching, and telling them, “Make sure not to waste those gifts boys. They’re worth a lot.”

His wings stretch out as far as they can go before he pushes off of the ground. Spraying the water everywhere. In an instant he’s already past where Michael and Raphael are standing and then flying past them. She watches as the two follow after, the massive sound of three archangels flying off filling the hotel. The clouds turn dark and stormy and everyone waits with bated breath for something to happen. Neither of the angels return and Meg can see Zachariah’s eyes budging as he frantically searches for them.

When he gives up he looks down towards the lobby floor, eyes widening again. Meg looks down and the water has disappeared, leaving small scraps of paper. She picks one up and unfolds it, gasping again at what’s written on it.

_“O loving messenger of the Incarnation…”_

She’s not the only one to notice what they papers are as someone shouts out, “Prayers!”

In an instant the lobby is rushed with angels and demons. Meg pushes back against them as the frantically rush by to try and grab the prayers littering the floor. She faintly hears Zacharaiah yell that those prayers belong to the establishment but doesn’t pay any mind to it. Shoving past to grab Sam and Dean to pull them out of there.

By the time they’ve made it out of the masses of beings Zachariah and other higher angels hand descended to confiscate the prayers. Sam watches as Meg places one into the pocket of her leather jacket but doesn’t say anything. Dean goes off, mentioning something about getting some air and maybe finding Castiel, so Sam follows Meg back towards their room. Asking her questions to fill in the gaps.

“So Gabriel isn’t a fallen angel?”

“No, not like Lucifer and the angels that fell with him. I don’t know the full story but when the host and Lucifer’s forces were fighting it’s said that Gabriel couldn’t take it and he ran away. He didn’t want to pick between his brothers so he left. A bit different from falling,” Meg says, flipping the lighter up to watch the flame, “explains why he just hid his grace and disguised himself as a god than wearing the mask.”

Sam squints, “Mask?”

Meg nods and puts the lighter away, “The fallen wear masks.”

“They do?” Sam asks, stopping in the middle of the hallway, his face paling.

“Mmhmm,” Meg says, not stopping with him, “They wear them because they’re ashamed of their tarnished wings. They don’t want anyone knowing that the wings belong to their name.”

She turns the corner and leaves Sam alone in the hallway. He bites his lip and swallows, trying to settle his stomach as he’s filled with worry. It has to be true though, Sam realizes, why else would his friend not reveal his face or his name. He debates for a moment going to find the masked being and demand he answer his questions but Sam doesn’t want to potentially ruin the one good thing he has going in this place. So instead Sam makes his way towards their room, hoping to sleep off the nervous energy in his gut.

{:}

“That angel had so much fun with those humans,” said the god sitting in the empty lobby. It was early morning and all of the prayers had already been collected much to his disappointment. Who did those angels think they were hoarding those prayers? They certainly didn’t need them but he did. He hadn’t had anyone worship him in hundreds of years.

“I bet I could have a lot more fun stringing their organs over this place, it would really set the mood. “

The god stretched out and placed his feet onto the table, “None of the angels or demons tried to help them save for that one. I’d have no problem doing it.”

A whooshing sound filled the lobby and the god felt the table under his feet shake. He opened his eyes to see a cloaked figure standing in front of him, wearing a white mask.

“Who are you?”

The other being said nothing stepping off of the table and reaching down to grab the god by his throat. It croaked a cry for help before the masked figure squeezed hard on its throat. The god clawed at its hand but couldn’t hurt the being enough to release him. The sound of ruffled feathered drew the gods attention to the six tattered and ruined wings that now appeared. The god’s eyes widened and he gripped at the hand tighter, gasping, “You!”

The other hand shot up and covered the gods face and finally both hands squeezed harder. The sounds of desperate gasping ended with a sickening crunch and the sound of wet popping. The hand let go of the corpse and it dropped to the floor, blood seeping out from behind its empty eye sockets.

Lucifer tilted his head down at the body and sneered.

{:}

When Sam woke up that morning he wondered if Dean had even come back from trying to find Castiel. He looks over to Dean’s side of the bed and notices that the sheets are undone. When Sam stands up he sees the clothes Dean was wearing form yesterday on the floor.

Sam sighs, knowing that Dean must have been looking for Cas again, before heading to the bathroom to get ready. Since it is Sunday the hotel is closed and the guests will all have checked out this morning. Sam enjoys the time to take a long shower and not worry about rushing.

Under the spray of water Sam lets his mind wander to what he learned last night. The friend he made here is a fallen angel but even though that had filled Sam with dread before he reckons it may not be as bad as he thought. The fallen angel had treated him well so far so what would change if Sam knew what he was. Clearly he was better than some of the other angels Sam had met while here.

After finishing up in the shower Sam pulls on his clothes and his knife. Sam notices the apple on his bedside table and decides on a whim to bring it with him in case he can’t convince one of the cooks to make him some food.

It’s not a very pleasant day. The air is warm and humid even with the breeze. Since it’s the day the hallways are empty as usual and Sam enjoys the privacy. Maybe he’ll head out to the garden to relax for a bit before looking for Dean.

Sam’s head picks up when he hears voices talking in the next hallway over.

“Dean is down with Cain and Castiel. He found Castiel up in the archangel’s office bleeding out grace all over the carpet. Apparently the place is in ruins now, a spell attached to Castiel’s coat. What a beginner’s mistake,” Crowley remarks, “No idea how he got Castiel all the way down there.”

“I could care less about _that_ Winchester, I want to know where Sam is.”

That was Naomi’s voice and even just at the tone of her voice Sam could tell that something had happened. Let alone her words. He shivered despite the warm and humid air blowing through the building from the open windows.

“What could he have possibly done to…” Crowley begins before Naomi cuts him off.

“What could he have done? He let Lucifer in!”

Sam’s blood runs cold.

“You’re not serious are you…”

“Of course I am. Lucifer’s here and now he’s slaughtering gods left and right in the lobby.”

For a second Sam thinks about running in the other direction and hiding back in his room. Pretending that this is a bad dream like he used to with Cold Oak. But deep down he knows he can’t. Sam takes a deep breath before rounding the hallway to see Naomi and Crowley turn to look at him.

“You!” Naomi scathes at him, “Zachariah wants you down in the lobby right now. This is your mess.”

{:}

When Sam enters the hallway he’s hit first by the smell of blood that’s thick in the air. It’s so present that it clouds his head and he has to cover his nose and mouth for a few seconds. There’s also an aftertaste of something close to burning rubber.  He turns away from the direction that the scent on instinct and catches the faces of the beings—mostly angels, a few demons-- following him; making sure he will finish what he started. Sam swallows, throat tight, trying not to gag from the smell, and turns back around. It takes a few shaky steps but he reaches the end of the hallway. To his left is the hallway that leads to the lobby and in this hallway is where he sees the first splatter of blood.

A few feet from it is the body the blood most likely belongs to and it’s not the only body in the hallway. There are at least five that Sam counts as he continues down the hall. There are also more splatters of blood to go along with the bodies. Sam pays closer attention to one body and thinks he sees bits of the god’s human insides spilling out of their body. He looks away quickly and doesn’t observe any of the others as closely. The smell only gets worse as he continues. A piercing scream comes from the lobby and it stops Sam in his tracks. The hair on the back of Sam’s neck stands up and his body goes cold. From his position he can only see some of the lobby from the hallways entryway. The wall he can see is splattered in more blood than the hallway. The floor is slick with it as well. Dark red pools along the wood paneling. The scream is cut off suddenly with a sickening snap of bone breaking before there is no sound but Sam’s breathing.

In panic Sam stops again and covers his mouth. Fear strikes deep in Sam’s core. How is he going to do this?

“Keep moving.”

The voice shocks Sam and he flinches, heart beat skyrocketing. Sam turns his head to see an angel glaring at him.

“You let him in, you have to fix this,” the angel hisses, angrily. But Sam can hear the fear in its voice as well as the fury.

 Sam nods shakily and takes a deep breath.

It’s almost impossible to believe that this creature is the same one who helped him escape the demons in the beginning of all this. That it was a monster that helped Sam with the desk before Gabriel. The same being that he’s been sharing his past with and found a common bond is a monster. Lucifer.  The devil, the great adversary. Part of Sam thinks he should have known, if he could relate to the being than of course the thing behind the mask would be a monster. 

It takes seven more steps before he reaches the end of the hallway and he can see the entirety of the lobby. It’s even worse than he imagined. There are a significant more number of bodies in the lobby and in this room Sam does not have the advantage of avoiding catching glimpses at the guts and gore. The blood drips from the walls and even from some splashes on the second floor balcony railings.

Sam doesn’t spend much time on the room though as soon as he spots Lucifer.

The angel is standing on the coffee table, a dead god’s body underneath him. His foot is placed on its neck, bent back abnormally over the table.  He is still in the dark cowl and robe now stained darker in some areas from the blood. But what keeps Sam staring are the appendages that now grace Lucifer’s back. His wings. They’re enormous, six in all, and the lower ones brush against the floor. The most shocking part though is the tar and soot that covers them. If there is any color to them like the other angels it’s not visible from under the substance. The tar is dripping off of the wings onto the table and the floor; it looks as if it’s oozing from them.

“Hello Sam,” Lucifer says and Sam jumps looking away from Lucifer’s wings to his face. He’s still wearing the mask.

“I’m sorry you have to see me like this,” Lucifer adds, lifting his foot off the body and pushing it off the table. Sam flinches at the loud thump it makes coupled with the splash of it landing in one of the bloody puddles mixed with the tar.

Sam swallows, thinking quickly. He knows that the angels don’t expect him to defeat Lucifer. He’s just there to buy time until Michael and Raphael come back.  They don’t care if he buys time by distracting Lucifer or by becoming Lucifer’s next victim.

“You.. you’re an angel?” Sam asks, playing dumb as he steps awkwardly over a dead body to get closer to the front entrance. There’s no doubt in his mind that Lucifer would be able to get to him before he ever even made it past the desk but it still comforts him. Swallowing again Sam continues, “What’s wrong with your wings?”

Lucifer sighs, “Sam, you can drop the act. I know they’ve told you who I am.”

Sam swallows thickly, glancing away from the angel to seek out any other exits. Lucifer catches the action and shakes his head.

“Don’t worry Sam, I won’t hurt you,” he says, tilting his head, “I know there are some very scary tales about me.” Lucifer pauses, lifting his hands to lace his fingers together. Sam can practically feel the smirk behind the angel’s mask as he speaks again, “Only some of them are true.”

With the state of the room they’re in Sam has no doubt that it’s true. Sam looks away from Lucifer and back to the gory mess of bodies littering the room. Seeing Lucifer surrounded by the evidence makes it easier to believe that he’s the monster they say he is. Sam has no idea how he’s going to get out of this.

“Why are you doing this?” Sam asks after taking a deep breath.

Lucifer pauses, unlacing his fingers and holding   his arm out towards the bodies, “They wanted to hurt you, Sam. You and your brother. They wanted to play with you since they saw my brother have so much fun.” Sam watches as Lucifer’s fists clench. “Besides, they’re false idols,” the angel growls out, “Thinking that they could compare to Father.”  Lucifer turns his head to look at the body he dropped off the table before, voice full of malice, “They’re such petty things.”

Silence falls and Sam frantically searches for something to keep Lucifer distracted. Even if Lucifer is telling the truth that Sam has nothing to fear in regards to his own well-being it still leaves all of the others at his mercy. Most of all Sam can’t stop but wondering what is wrong with the archangel standing before him. Sam’s eyes keep moving back to Lucifer’s wings; the tar still dripping off them onto the wood floors.

“Are you..” Sam starts, swallowing when the words bring Lucifer’s masked face back to regard Sam, “are you sick?”

“Living in hell isn’t very beneficial to an angel,” Lucifer says solemnly and Sam can’t stop the way his chest clenches slightly at the angel’s tone. Sam thinks back to when Lucifer told him about his soul and how they had experienced similar events in their lives. It all makes sense now. The argument between father and son, the banishment from home. Michael and Dean.

Its then that Sam remembers Gabriel. And more importantly the apple.

Sam reaches turns and slides his backpack off his shoulder. Setting it on a somewhat clean spot on the floor and kneeling to search inside it. He can feel Lucifer track his motions but the angel says nothing as Sam rummages through the sack. Upon retrieving the apple Sam stands back up, holding the apple out for Lucifer to inspect.

“Do you think this could help?” he asks, hopeful.

Lucifer doesn’t say anything at first, staring at the apple until he tilts his head slightly and speaks, “What is that?”

Sam takes a cautious step forward.

“Gabriel gave it to me,” Sam stops, licking his lips, “I think it could help you.”

Lucifer sighs softly, sadly, “Sam, there’s nothing that can help me.”

Sam frowns and his chest tightens again. The cold icy feeling curling around his ribs and lungs. He knows what it’s like to think that. To think that there’s no hope. And while every reason Sam should turn and run instead of helping the angel is scattered bloody around the room Sam can’t stop from wanting to help Lucifer.

“Please just... just try okay?” Sam pleads before tossing the apple to Lucifer.

The angel catches it and eyes it carefully. He doesn’t make a move to remove his mask and he doesn’t look at Sam. The hunter almost sends a fleeting prayer out of habit before Lucifer’s hand lifts up towards his face.

Sam’s breath catches in his throat.

Lucifer’s fingers curl under bottom of the mask and slide it up to reveal his mouth. There’s nothing terrifying about it—Sam even thinks Lucifer’s lips look soft—and when he opens his mouth to take a bite of the apple there are no numerous sharp teeth. Lucifer takes a considerably sized bite and some of the juice trickles down both his hand and chin. He chews the piece slowly before swallowing.

Nothing happens.

 Sam’s hope holds out for a few seconds before it falls. He feels unsteady himself. Guilty that he may have gotten the archangel’s hope up and upset that it was a fluke. Watching as Lucifer pulls down his mask again while the hand holding the apple falls to his side: it’s a sharp sting to Sam’s heart. He’s about to apologize and ask for forgiveness when the archangel coughs behind his mask. It startles both of them; Sam is sure as Lucifer tenses up. Soon after the angel coughs again and doesn’t stop. It’s then that Sam notices the tar is dripping from Lucifer’s wings significantly more. 

A pained groan comes from the masked angel and Sam is filled with fear instead now. Lucifer’s coughing continues, growing more violent as the tar seeps from his wings.

His voice, hoarse and pained, causes the hair on Sam’ neck to stand up.  
  
“Sam,” Lucifer rasps out between coughs and groans, “what have you done?”

Shaking his head Sam tries to find words but can’t as he watches the sight before him. Lucifer is now bent over slightly, arms folded across his chest, holding himself. Sam glances down to see that the apple has now landed in tar. Lucifer moves towards him, stepping off the table. Out of fear Sam steps back shakily. He thinks Lucifer may have said his name in between the coughs but can’t be sure. Too distracted as Lucifer stalks closer to him. Sam doesn’t know what to do. Doesn’t know what Lucifer may do. Afraid that any promises made are now broken.  Sam knows he should run but before he can turn and make a dash for the entrance way doors there’s a shout from the second floor balcony. Sam looks up to see Dean leaning against the railway, colt in hand and pointed at Lucifer.  
  
“Get away from him!” Dean shouts, and when Lucifer looks up at him he pulls the trigger, hitting Lucifer dead in the middle of his face.

The silence that follows is heavy. Lucifer isn’t dead though as his wings move and shift, weighed down by tar, defensively around him. The colt seemed to do nothing to the angel until a loud crack breaks the silence.

From where the bullet entered Lucifer’s mask a large fissure spreads up past all four sets of eye holes. A second crack starts from the first and soon another spreads out. Lucifer is a still as marble at first. Gingerly moving his hand up to touch the largest and first crack. When he touches the mask the pieces start to fall from his face.

Lucifer screams in seeming agony, hands moving to shield his face as the mask completely falls apart. Sam catches sight of Lucifer’s actual eyes, bright blue and full of distress. Lucifer is looking up at Dean but Sam can see the distress turn to terrifying rage, the archangel’s eyes narrowing and glowing with power and fury. Sam hears a muffled ‘shit’ leave his brother’s mouth before Lucifer screeches and leaps from the lobby floor to the second floor balcony railing. The sound of Dean’s boots running across the floorboards above him jolts Sam out of his shock.

“Dean!” Sam yells before frantically running towards the stairs, only hearing the sound of wings.

Sam takes the stairs two at a time up to the second floor. Spotting trails of black tar Sam follows after the lead, jumping at the sound of another hot going off but also relieved at the sign that Dean is still alive. He keeps after the sounds of Lucifer’s angry screeching and Dean’s cursing but he isn’t catching up quick enough.

The sound of a growl nearby stops Sam from running straight into a large black dog. It snaps its jaw full of sharp teeth at Sam and Sam backs away, cursing at the timing, before he spots Meg astride the dog.

“Meg?” Sam yells, confused.

She holds out her hand to Sam, saying urgently, “Come on there’s no time to stand here and explain.”

Sam takes it and she pulls him onto the hound before setting off on the trail.

“You must have really injured Lucifer if Dean’s still giving him the slip,” Meg says to him before they spot the two of them. Or more accurately they spot Lucifer’s wings but still hear Dean take another shot at the devil. She forces the hound to turn down another hallway and Sam yells, “They’re that way!”

“We’re taking a short cut!”

Sam bites his lip trying listen in between Lucifer’s yelling and coughing for the sound of Dean or the colt. There won’t be many bullets left in the chamber at the rate that Dean’s firing. The hound turns right and then makes another right and shoots down the hallway. Meg pulls on it to make it stop when they reach the end of the hallway and Sam sees Dean running towards them. Sam holds his out to Dean and pulls Dean up onto the hound.

It starts off down the hall right before Lucifer slams into the wall they were in front of. Sam hears Dean try to catch his breath before shouting, “This is a hellhound! Why can we see this thing?”

“Why do you think none of us try to make a run for it? Lilith has you under contract,” she yells over the sound of Lucifer’s screeching, “Until your time is up she can send them after you at any time.”

They turn quickly and it’s a dead end but Meg keeps the hellhound moving towards the window at the end of the hallway. She shouts at them to hold on and that’s all the warning Sam and Dean get before the dog busts through the window and falls down towards the ground.

The hound takes all of the impact and starts running across the obsidian like ground. Dean curses quietly behind him.

As they get closer to the train tracks the hound slows to a walking pace. Sam turns to Dean, “How’s Cas? I heard something happened?”

Dean frowns deeply before sighing.

“He’s bad, Sam, I gave him some of the apple to help him but I have to return this,” and now Dean pulls out a small golden letter stamp, “to its owner, Joshua. Cas took it, had a curse on it. Cain gave me tickets for the train so I can get there and back.”

“That’s why we’re dropping your brother off at the train station up ahead, Sam,” Meg says.

Sam turns back to Dean, “I’m going with you.”

“Sam, no,” Dean says, shaking his head.

“Bullshit, I’m not letting you go alone. You came to help me with Lucifer,” Sam reprimands Dean and Dean backs down from arguing.

“I’ll take a thank you by the way,” Meg says, turning to both of them.

“For what?” Sam asks, raising his eyebrow.

“Who do you think told your brother what was going on in the lobby?”

“Oh,” Sam says, swallowing, “Thanks then, for that.”

Meg nods turning around before cursing.

“Shit.”

Sam and Dean look up ahead to see Lucifer standing next to the train station. He’s stopped dripping tar but Lucifer is hunched over himself, still in pain apparently. Despite the scenes he’s witnessed today Sam still feels sad for the angel. Sam hears Dean ask Meg if the next station is close by but before she answers Sam shakes his head, speaking firmly.

“No, he’s my responsibility. I’ll deal with him.”

Dean looks as if he’s going to argue so Sam pulls his other leg from the hellhound’s other side before sliding down off the dog. He makes his way over to the train station calmer now that Lucifer’s no longer screaming. When he reaches Lucifer the angel looks up at him and Sam gets his first chance to look at the angel’s face.

His blue eyes are the most striking thing about him but the rest of his face compliments them well. He’s not traditionally what people would consider handsome but he’s still got the edges here and there, only softer. Sam winces as Lucifer coughs roughly again.

“Are you going to try and hurt me?” Sam asks the angel.

Lucifer shakes his head and coughs once more before speaking, voice hoarse, “I told you I wouldn’t hurt you. I don’t lie.”

“You tried to hurt my brother.”

“He shot me,” Lucifer growls only to fall into another coughing fit.

“He thought you were going to hurt me,” Sam tells the angel, coming closer to Lucifer, “Are you going to try and kill him again?”

The archangel looks up at Sam and shakes his head again, “No.”

Sam nods and then holds out his hand to Lucifer.

“Then if you want, you can come with us and help Castiel. And while we’re doing that maybe I can help ease the pain I’ve caused you.”

Lucifer stares at Sam as he speaks, eyes widening just slightly near the end. He looks off to the side and Sam thinks he’s about to say no so he pushes his hand out to Lucifer’s more. Eventually feeling Lucifer take Sam’s hand; it’s as cold as ice but Sam grips it tight as Dean dismounts the hellhound. Dean looks warily at Lucifer but Sam shakes his head. Luckily enough Dean seems too tired to argue and he climbs up the steps to the station. Lucifer holds Sam’s hand tightly and the train whistle blows in the distance.  

{:}

To Sam’s surprise he falls asleep almost once they’ve gotten onto the train. They had been picked up around midday and now at their stop it’s nighttime. The sky is dark blue and full of the stars as the train goes past them. Dean and Lucifer didn’t seem to talk despite Sam knowing that they both were awake the whole train ride. Lucifer because he doesn’t need to sleep and Dean because once Dean has a mission he almost never goes to sleep unless it’s absolutely necessary.

There stop is in the middle of nowhere. A large forest stands before them with only one single trail leading its way into it. Dean doesn’t hesitate walking onto the path and starting his way into the forest. Sam and Lucifer trail behind him, their hands still holding each other. They walk on for what seems like a half a mile, only the moon illuminating their path, before they come upon a structure in the middle of the woods.

“Wow,” Sam says, looking at the building before them.

In front is a simple cottage but behind that is a giant greenhouse that’s roof goes above the tree line of the forest.  

“Is this it?” Sam asks Dean and his brother turns around to him and nods.

“It’s gotta be. This is the stop Cain told me to get off at.”

Sam nods and follows Dean up to the door of the cottage. Dean knocks loudly and steps back.

“You don’t need to be afraid,” Lucifer says, finally speaking since he took Sam’s hand, “Joshua isn’t cruel.”

Before either Winchester can reply the door opens and in illuminated by the light coming from the cottage is a short black man with grey hair wearing work clothes. He looks up to regard them and smiles.

“I was wondering when you’d get here. I hoped someone would be coming,” Joshua says, stepping out of the doorway, “Come in, I’ll put on some tea.”

Awkwardly they make their way into the cottage. Lucifer tucks in his wings with a hiss and growls in pain.

“Don’t give me that, your anger festered and tainted your grace,” Joshua says, turning around and scolding Lucifer, “Hell had some part in it but the later of damage was your own. Be thankful for that pain, it means you’re getting better.”

He beckons them to sit down around the table as the tea starts to boil. Sam looks around the cottage and sees that it’s decorated very homily. It’s crowded with knickknacks but unlike the rooms and hallways of the hotel this seems lived in. When the tea pot starts to go off he pulls it off the stove and grabs four cups, placing them on the table. After grabbing a tea cozy for the kettle he also brings over a box of different teas.

They pick their teas and Sam takes the first sip of his and even though it was warm outside the warmth of the tea is nice. He watches as Dean takes a sip and then places his cup down; not touching it after that. Sam waits for Dean to bring up the seal for a while, wondering if Dean will ever do it. When Joshua stands to reheat the tea Dean also gets up.

“I don’t know what you know but a friend of mine stole this from you,” Dean holds out the letter stamp to Joshua who takes it from Dean.

“It has a curse on it and my friend is sick now. I need you to take it off,” Dean swallows roughly and quietly adds, “please.”

Joshua doesn’t say anything at first. Observing the letter stamp once before pocketing it and returning to the stove to turn on the heat. Dean’s expression falls and he opens his mouth to say something before Joshua interrupts him.

“This is mine but the curse has already been broken,” Joshua says, smiling and pointing out of the window, “Take a look.”

Sam looks out the window and sees Castiel standing there, his black wings stretched out in the clearing in front of the house.

{:}

Lucifer had slipped away while Joshua had been talking and Castiel had arrived. Sam was fairly certain that Dean would be with Castiel for a long time judging by the serious looks on both of their faces. When he turned to look for Lucifer Sam found his eyes catch Joshua watching him softly. The angel pointed towards an opening in the wall were Sam could hear a faint buzzing noise. “He went in there, Sam,” Joshua told him with a smile before he poured himself another cup of tea. Sam nodded and thank him before heading towards the door.

As he suspected beyond the opening lies the massive greenhouse they had seen in back of the house. The lights were turns do it almost seemed like day instead of night. All you had to do was look up though, to see the stars through the glass panes. Grass covered the entire surface from what Sam could see and there were several layers of plants.  Trees, bushes, flowers. Near the entrance Sam found a set of benches and a table but Lucifer wasn’t sitting there. Sam made his way into the garden, letting the smell of flowers and warm dirt encompass over him. It reminded him of the wild flower field outside of the town.

He passed several different types of flowers; some he recognized and others were so striking that Sam wondered if they existed anywhere else besides this garden. There were a few large rose bushes that Sam passed when he caught sight of a familiar black cloak. Lucifer was standing by one of the rose bushes. As Sam drew closer he noticed that Lucifer’s shoulders were stiff. Sam has a reasonable suspicion that it was from the trauma Lucifer’s wings went through today.  A small kernel of guilt popped up in Sam’s gut but he knew that Lucifer was grateful that Sam had helped him. Summoning up the courage Sam walked over to Lucifer, and said ‘hello’ to the angel in a friendly manner, smiling at Lucifer as he turned around.

“Hello Sam,” Lucifer said with a small smile. His voice soft and his eyes warm.

It was much more rewarding to be able to see the smile instead of imagining what it might look like behind the mask. Lucifer’s face was softer than he expected, the angles of his face lightly defined. And even with the burns that scattered along his skin Lucifer still looked beautiful. It was the eyes that really did it though, Sam thought. He smiled wider at Lucifer and nodded towards the rose bush.

“Do you like roses?” he asked,

Lucifer turned his gaze back to the flowers briefly before nodding, “I do, I love all of nature. They’re my favorite of my Father’s creations.”

Sam moved his head to look around the garden. “Did he let you have any input in them?” Sam inquired before he could think to regret the question. Luckily Lucifer didn’t appear to be upset.

“No, but He would let me be the first to smell the flowers after they were created,” Lucifer said.

Nodding Sam stepped up closer to Lucifer and his eyed fell back to Lucifer’s shoulders. They were still locked tensely. Sam realized too late that he probably shouldn’t be staring at them. When he shifted his gaze back up he found Lucifer’s eyes, the archangel had caught him looking. Sam played with his hands nervously, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare,” he said, smiling apologetically. Lucifer took the apology and returned the smile.

“It’s okay, Sam. It’s only natural that’s you’re curious,” Lucifer paused, frowning, “I wish that they were in better condition so that you could look at them in their full glory. I haven’t had time since you helped me to groom them and it’s a tedious process.”

“I could help you,” Sam offered before he can stop himself. Silently cursing as he watches Lucifer’s widen at Sam’s proposal. Grooming must be an intimate process and Sam feels like an idiot for not realizing that sooner. “I’m sorry, that was wrong of me to ask,” Sam apologized, hoping that Lucifer would accept it again. The angel doesn’t say anything, watching Sam. The feeling that Lucifer is looking at his soul comes over him before Lucifer shifts and breaks his gaze to lock eyes with Sam.

“No, Sam,” Lucifer starts, “Don’t apologize. I was just taken aback.” The angel crosses his arms and his eyes soften once more, “That’s very nice of you but my wings are still damaged heavily from their time in hell. I wouldn’t want to scare you with them again.”

It’s then that Sam’s reminded of the events in the hotel’s lobby. Lucifer’s wings had been terrifying but even then he had felt bad for the fallen angel. Sam shakes his head and speaks firmly, “If that’s all then don’t worry about me. I’ve seen plenty of horrifying things in the past could of days. Your wings don’t even make the top three.”

Lucifer chuckles at the remark and his shoulders relax just a bit. His voice is serious though when he asks Sam if he’s sure.

Sam nods before holding out his hand to Lucifer. The angel observes it before unfolding his arms and takes Sam’s hand into his own. His skin is still as icy as it was when he first placed it over his shoulder in the alleyway. Now it’s even colder since none of Sam’ clothes are there to absorb the sensation. Smiling, Sam turns to look around them, asking Lucifer, “Do we need anything to do this or…?”

Lucifer nods and begins walking deeper into the garden, leading Sam along. He seems to know his way around so Sam asks, “Have you been here before?”

“A few times,” Lucifer informs Sam. They come upon a small area with a set of chairs and a table. Behind them is a large tree with red leaves. Around the tress and covering a large portion of the ground are a stream of colorful flowers. On top of the table Sam notices a small wooden crate that contains a few mason jars. Lucifer reaches for one, letting go of Sam’s hand to unscrew the lid. He lifts it to his nose to smell and sighs happily, a soft noise accompanying it. Lucifer holds out the jar for Sam to smell and when Sam leans in he sees that the substance looks like a golden jelly.  When he sniffs at it Sam can smell honey mostly but there are a few other scents that Sam doesn’t recognize.

“What’s in it? Besides honey I mean,” Sam asks Lucifer as the angel smells the jar’s contents again.

Lucifer makes the soft noise again and causes Sam’s gut to flip. Lucifer closes his eyes, murmuring, “Honey, myrrh, and nectar from some of Joshua’s flowers.”

He turns to Sam, placing the jar back down before he speaks again, “We’ll use it to help restore my wings after we’ve cleaned them.”

At that Sam nods and follows Lucifer’s lead as he sits down on the grass. Lucifer watches Sam silently as Sam pulls off his jacket and rolls up his sleeves before resting his hand on his thighs before looking at Lucifer resolutely. Chuckling at Sam’s determination Lucifer allows his wings to unfurl behind him and stretch out in the open space.  While they are no longer dripping tar the wings are still heavily damaged. Still covered in soot and ash, in between the feathers Sam can see globs of tar and sulfur caught. After Lucifer has gauged the hunter’s reaction, making sure that Sam isn’t too horrified Lucifer leans one of his wings forward.

“You can reach in and pull the mess out, it won’t hurt more than they already do,” he tells Sam as he stared to clean his other wing. Demonstrating how to get rid of the waste.

Sam reaches for the wing Lucifer offered him cautiously being tender despite Lucifer’s claim. After the initial shock that he’s actually touching an angel’s wing Sam goes after one particular nasty looking clump, pilling the mess of tar, sulfur, and broken feathers out as gently as he can. he continues cleaning the wings this way, paying close attention to any unpleasant noises that Lucifer makes. It’s a tedious process and Sam marvels at how bad of a state the archangel’s wings have gotten compared to Castiel’s. He thinks about asking how long Lucifer was down in hell before deciding against it. 

Sam doesn’t know how long it takes for him to clean the first wing or the second but when he gets to the third another set of hands is helping him. Sam looks up, Lucifer has finished cleaning the wings on the other side of his body.

“I’m sorry I’m so slow,” Sam says, grimacing but Lucifer shakes his head.

“No Sam, it’s fine,” he murmurs, pulling a clump away from two feathers at the top of his wing. “It’s a pleasure to have a soul as bright as yours grooming my wings.”

“Why is that?” Sam asks after a moment of silence, stopping his hands. Lucifer turns to regard him and notices that they’ve gotten closer as they clean the same wing; he clears his throat under Lucifer’s stare,

“Why is my soul so bright?”

“You have a good heart, you want to do the right thing,” Lucifer tells him, hand lowering to take hold of Sam’s. Sam grips Lucifer’s hand and the angel does the same before lifting them up, thumb brushing over Sam’s knuckles. Lucifer keeps his eyes on their hands as he speaks tenderly, “And personally your soul is appealing to me because you’re inquisitive. You have a thirst for knowledge and the truth.”

Lucifer smiles, tilting his head, “I admire those qualities.”

Sam worries his lip and stares at Lucifer as the angel smiles. Eventually Lucifer’s eyes lift up from their hands to Sam’s own. Sam swallows before leaning in closer to Lucifer and watches as the angels lips part and let out s soft sound. Before Lucifer can say his name Sam leans over and bridges the gap between their lips.

{:}

Sam wakes up on top of Joshua’s whicker couch with a warm blanket thrown over him. Dully he remembers coming back into the cottage part of the house and sitting down on the couch. Before that he briefly remembers feeling soft feathers under his hands, feathers colored in gold, pink, and pure white. But it’s mostly a blur from after he kissed Lucifer. Sam blames the excitement from the other day.

He sits up to find Dean sitting in the armchair next to him, drinking some of Joshua’s tea.

“Well hi there Sleeping Beauty,” he grins at Sam, “You were out like a light, Sammy.”

Sam nods and yawns, stretching his arms above his heads, “Yeah, you seem pretty chipper today though.”

Dean nods and pauses taking a sip from his tea before putting it down on the coffee table in front of them.

“Cas saved me from hell,” Dean says, looking off to the side, “He was off on some errand for Michael and Raphael when he spotted me down there. He saw why I was there and didn’t understand how

Heaven could let that happen. So he pulled me up off the rack.”

Sam stares at Dean in amazement, “Why didn’t he say anything before?”

Dean shakes his head, “The guy didn’t remember. When he confronted them about it they had his memory wiped. He only got it back when we went flying and I told him I felt like I remembered his wings.”

“Wait,” Sam says, surprised again, “You went _flying_?”

“Yeah and I’m never doing it again,” Dean says, grimacing, “After he remembered we fell ten feet out of the sky before he started flapping again.”

Sam can’t help but laugh to which Dean punches his arm. Looking around the room Sam can’t spot any of the angels.

“Where’d they go?” Sam asks Dean.

“Your boyfriend went to go talk to Lilith about burning up our contracts; he’s their father so he seemed sure he’d get her to do it. Cas went with him in case Michael or Raphael came back.”

It was then that Joshua came back in from outside and told them that if they wanted they could help themselves to some of the bread in the cupboard and some of the honey in the fridge. As they were finishing up the windows shook and when Sam looked outside them he found Lucifer standing there with his wings out. Sam put his dishes away and then walked outside. As he came up closer to Lucifer and observed his wings he started to remember more of the night before.

The top most part of Lucifer’s wings were golden and underneath them pink feathers started until they were taken over by the white that made up most of Lucifer’s wings. Sam must have been gaping because when he looked towards Lucifer the archangel was smirking.

“Don’t be mad but I forgot most of last night until now,” Sam says, smiling back at Lucifer.

Lucifer nods.

“You were tired; I don’t blame you for that.”

Lucifer holds his hand, saying proudly, “Do you want me to take you back now? I can fly you there.”

Sam bites his lip, “Did you convince Lilith to erase out contracts or…?”

“I did. You’re no longer bound to that place; all of your years have been wiped clean.”

Sam sighs in relief and then nods, “Alright then, you can take me flying.”

Lucifer smirks and his eyes light up in pride. He slips an arm under Sam’s and grips his side. Sam puts his arm around Lucifer’s shoulder. The archangel glances towards the cottage and calls out teasingly, “Do you want to come along, Dean?”

Sam looks up and sees Dean in the doorway, frowning.

“Is Cas coming back?”

Sam feels Lucifer nod, “He is.”

“I’ll pass then” Dean says, “Take care of Sammy. Don’t drop him or I _will_ find something that can kill you.”

Sam rolls his eyes and watches Dean walk back into the house. A breeze picks up and Sam looks over to Lucifer who is watching him.

“Ready?”

“Yeah,” Sam grins before Lucifer’s wings extend and beats his wings once to take them off the ground.

{:}

Lucifer lands them both outside in the field of flowers in front of the train station. In front of them stand

Castiel and Dean. Dean rolls his eyes when Lucifer extends his larger wing all the way, muttering, “Show off.”

Sam slips his hand to the back of Lucifer’s neck and tugs him down to kiss him hard. When he pulls back Lucifer’s eyes are closed halfway and he murmurs softly, “I’ll find you. On your side I’ll find you again.”

Sam nods before stepping away and standing next to his brother. Castiel moves in front of them smiling slightly.

“Thank you, Cas,” Dean says and Castiel shakes his head, “You don’t need to thank me.”

“One thing though,” Castiel says, looking between the two of them, “When you walk through the tunnel don’t look back. No matter what you feel in there don’t look back.”

Both of them nod before Castiel steps back. He pulls out his wings as well and then within a flash both of the angels are gone. When Sam looks up at the sky he thinks he can see them in the sky but isn’t too sure.

“Let’s get going,” Dean states before turning to walk up to the train station. Sam follows after him, catching up and matching his pace.

They find Meg waiting on one of the benches with their bags.

“You free to go too?” Sam asks her as he picks up his bag and starts walking with Dean towards the door.

“Cain took the rest of my years,” she tells them, walking with her hands in her back pockets, “thought I went above and beyond what he first asked of me.”

The rest of the way is the same as when they entered Sam only feels the urge to look back once but keeps his head forward. Knowing that Lucifer will keep his promise. When they exit the lobby and out into the forest again Sam squints his eyes from the brightness. The cicadas are loud and fill the hot summer air with their noise.

They trek down the path to wear the Impala is. Sam hears Dean gasp beside him and when he sees all of the dust and leaves that cover her. He runs over there to make sure that nothing else has happened to her. Sam smiles until he feels his phone vibrate and notices the thirty missed calls from Bobby, groaning, as he shoots him a quick text.

“Mind giving me a lift, boys?” Meg asks as Dean dusts off the Impala.

Dean looks up at her and sighs, “Yeah sure but you get back seat.”

After they stuff their bags into the trunk Sam and Dean climb into the Impala as well before Dean starts her and puts her in reverse. Driving away.

{:}


End file.
